Blanket
by SandalsintheSnow
Summary: Beth is a singer/dancer working for Gareth at Club Teramin. Beth has learned to handle herself, but Daryl is there to back her up when things get rough. He's also the only man who can bring her out of her sleepwalking nightmares. He's perfect for her, but he doesn't see it. It'll take more than a kiss to shoot an arrow through Daryl Dixon's heart.
1. What I Wanna See

Author's Note: This is a Bethyl romance inspired by a recent series of dreams I had while under the influence of a stomach virus. I wish it were under better circumstances, but my muse shows up when she wants!

This story is meant for mature readers due to the provocative content involved, as well as there are drug users and random acts of violence I'd rather not subject younger readers to. I'll be adding a lot of TWD characters in various forms throughout. I've also added a Boondock Saints character to the mix. I don't own any part of The Walking Dead. Its characters were created by Robert Kirkman and Frank Darabont. The Boondock Saints (1999) characters were created by Troy Duffy. I also want to credit the band Polisse for their song, "Blanket," from which this story is titled.

**One: What I Wanna See**

The stage was dark. It smelled of old wood and dry rot. Beth waited just behind the curtain. She could hear the audience breathing heavily with anticipation. Only men had come to watch her. In exactly three seconds, her music would cue.

A spotlight appeared center stage. "_Somewhere, Over the Rainbow_" began playing through the loudspeakers. Beth appeared in the farm dress similar to what Judy Garland wore while she sang on The Wizard of Oz. There was one big difference lined with Velcro on the back of Beth's dress. That wouldn't be revealed to the audience until very last.

Beth sang along to the rhythm of the music. She felt the most at peace when she sang. The audience were more interested in her body than if she could carry a tune, but she didn't care. The room smelled like a tonic of sweat, must, alcohol and buffalo wings. It was supposed to be a non-smoking business to keep up with new health codes, but the air was thick with secondhand. Beth didn't mind the smell of burning tobacco. She had long since become used to it.

She made a cute face and batted her eyelashes at the crowd, imitating a bewildered _Dorothy_ trying to understand the world of _Oz_. Some men hollered while others tossed a few dollar bills onto the stage. Beth continued singing and dancing while she scooped up her pay using choreographed moves so she could still put on a show. The men liked it more when she had to bend way down to gather her earnings. They stared eagerly down her front. Some leaned to one-side to gaze at her backside. _Each to his own._

Two of Beth's female co-workers appeared on stage and flanked either side of her. One had natural black hair while the other wore a black wig. They looked alike enough to resemble twins. The women wore see-through baby blue dresses and a pair of cheaply made bird wings and they entered when Beth sang the lyrics, "Birds fly over the rainbow..."

The two women fluttered their arms and danced around Beth. More hollers could be heard from the men. More dollar bills flooded the stage. Beth let the girls pick them up this time. She usually got more than her fair share after performing several routines in one night.

Beth swayed to the music. The two other women took each of her arms and lifted her up. Every man in the audience leaned forward as far as they could to see up her dress while she spun around on stage. Some of the men whistled and clapped like they thought they had gotten a real good look. They had no idea Beth wore sheer underwear that only gave them the _idea_ they were seeing something forbidden.

The two women placed Beth down by the pole to the right of the stage. She spun around the pole and kicked up her sparkling ruby red heels. She lifted herself nearly to the top of the pole and arched her back. She gripped the pole between her legs and moaned like it were a huge shaft that aroused her. The men ate up each moment like the hounds that they were. More bills got tossed onto the stage. The noise from their reactions were almost loud enough to drown out the rest of the song.

In the final act, Beth made her way to the left of the stage. A woman appeared from behind the curtain and took her place next to Beth. She was dressed as a very erotic version of the wicked witch, her black dress a barely-there skirt and the green paint on her face accentuating her naturally dark bare skin from the waist up. The witch reached for the back of Beth's dress and yanked at the Velcro. The song finished with Beth's top exposing her breasts as the fabric fell down to her waist. Beth gasped like it was an accident and put a hand over her passion colored lips. She widened her eyes even bigger in an expression of shock and innocence. The wicked witch cackled in a sexy, devilish way.

Dollar bills consumed the stage. Beth picked a few up while she bowed to the audience. The men were more than happy to watch her take her money while she was still topless. The women dressed as birds came closer to Beth to take some of the extra bills. The witch gathered some bills for herself on stage left. Once the bills were gone, the other women left the stage. Beth stayed to blow a kiss to her audience. She told them all, "Come on back, tomorrow!"

Some of the men booed. Others called for an encore. Two by the bar shouted for lap dances.

"Stay on, _Ruby Red_! We don't wanna go home just yet!" a surly admirer argued from a booth across the room.

"Yeah! Let's see som'more!" a lanky man with somber blue eyes called from the foot of the stage.

Beth waved at them both and promised, "Tomorrow, tomorrow!"

"YOU'RE ONLY A DAYYYYYY AWWWWWAAYYYYYYY!" a drunk fellow in tattered jeans sang from the front entrance.

Beth laughed and took the opportunity to exit the stage.

It was the last show of the night. Most of the audience were return-customers who knew it was closing time, but they still always managed to ignore that fact when it came down to it. Some nights, it seemed like all of downtown Atlanta couldn't resist watching the cowgirl-turned-stripper light up Club Teramin with her Broadway-like routines and creative ways of showing off her innocence.

Beth wasn't a virgin, but she liked playing one on stage. She also liked to sing and dance to keep her mind off of the hungry eyes that watched her every night. It wasn't an easy job, and it came with its share of safety hazards, but performing was something that Beth did very well. It was also the only job that paid well for a high school graduate whose only experience included working on her daddy's farm and spending summers as a cashier at the _Gas N' Go_.

"Wonderful, ladies! Utterly prodigious!" Gareth called as he waltzed backstage to oversee his diverse harem of strippers.

Beth was wiping her makeup off at her vanity. Sasha, Rosita and Lori were seated at their vanities nearby, but Gareth ignored all of them and made his way straight to Beth. He was completely nude save for an open silk bathrobe and his beard contrasted his feminine body language as he leaned down and gave Beth a light peck on the cheek. She giggled and he took hold of her shoulders. He squeezed them more tightly than necessary. Gareth gazed at her reflection in the mirror and smiled to reveal his recently bleached pearly whites.

"My muse, my protege! My mockingbird!" You were gorgeous tonight, as you are every night, but this was different! This was bet-ter! This was..._OUTSTANDING_!"

He held his arms out for emphasis. Beth was grateful he was mostly concealed behind her so she didn't catch a glimpse of his manhood in the mirror's reflection. He had no visible issues down there, but there was nothing lighthearted about seeing such private details about your manager every night.

"So beautiful! So beautiful!" Gareth glided back to Beth's side so he could reach over and gather a handful of her earnings from the vanity.

She said nothing as he placed the money in his robe pocket. He continued calling out praises and sweet compliments as he took a handful from the other girls as well. Lori was the only one who glared at him. Gareth ignored her resentful look and stated before he left the room, "Wonderful, ladies! I expect more tomorrow night! The _best_! Only the best from Club Teramin!"

With that, he left the room.

Gareth was a man formerly of many talents who had drowned his potential in drugs and tonics. He was a self-proclaimed _metrosexual_ who played it straight with customers but showed his flaming side around the women he hired to work for him. Whether he was gay or straight was never made clear, and his entire personality sometimes changed on a dime, but Beth considered herself lucky. Gareth never asked for more from his women than cash, and he usually only took what he needed to feed his addictions. He also allowed Beth to come up with her own performances and he only made minor tweaks to her ideas.

Rosita got up to leave. She straightened her jeans against her hips and waved good-bye to Beth as she sauntered out the door. Sasha quietly took her leave seconds later. She smiled at Beth's reflection in the mirror and Beth told her, "See ya, soon."

The room went quiet. Beth was aware that Lori was still at the vanity behind her. Beth tried to make quick work of finishing up so she could just leave. Lori was notorious for saying uncomfortable or crude things to her when they were left alone with each other. Jealousy sometimes showed herself as an _attractive_ but **_conniving_** bitch.

"It won't last, you know," Lori started in on her as if she had sensed Beth's discomfort.

Beth wouldn't turn around to face her. She could see Lori's long black hair flowing like a curtain as the older woman rose up from her seat and came over to place her dry hands on Beth's bare shoulders. The same curtain of hair brushed Beth's face and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up as Lori leaned in to whisper, "I was just like you, once. In a few years, you'll be just like me, dancing with your bottoms on to hide the C-Scar."

Lori searched the reflection in the mirror for signs of a reaction. Beth refused to let her find it.

"You'll see," Lori chuckled, squeezing Beth's shoulders hard enough to leave an imprint from her manicured nails.

Beth waited until Lori was long gone before she got up to leave. Rosita was still waiting by the door to hug Beth good-bye. They had become good friends since Beth started working at Club Teramin over a year ago. Few women stayed as long as they did and it was always nice to have at least one familiar face to look forward to.

"Go home and get a real good night's rest!" Rosita told Beth as they walked out of the building.

"Sure, I will," Beth nodded.

Rosita misunderstood the meaning as a sign that Beth was finally going to get some and she asked Beth with her curious expression to reveal more. Beth shook her head and Rosita rolled her eyes.

"You let that boy know what you want or he'll never pounce!" Rosita clicked her tongue and headed toward the parking lot.

Beth made an airy laugh and waved good-bye. Rosita didn't see it. Beth turned in the opposite direction and headed for the front of the building. It was after three in the morning. The humid Southern air choked her lungs and burned her cheeks. It felt like the middle of the day and Beth was already caked in a sheen of sweat before she had made it ten paces. She glanced around to make sure there weren't any drunk stragglers who had decided to wait around and harass her.

There was _someone_ waiting. His back was against the wall of the building and he was shrouded in darkness. Beth could barely make out his frame and the red dot of his lit cigarette. She clutched her expensive looking purse from a knock-off brand and swallowed hard.

"Why're you hiding' in the shadows like that?" Beth called to the figure.

He stepped out into the light. He was dressed in faded gray jeans and a gray t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He drained what was left of the cigarette in one long gasp and his movements were fluid and cat-like as he arched forward to remove the cigarette from his lips so he could grind it into the pavement with his boot. His voice was hard and gravelly as a rock tumbler machine when he argued, "I ain't hidin'!"

"Yeah? Well, it sure looked like it, _Daryl_," she teased him.

He didn't lighten up, but he usually never did. Beth smiled and followed him to his motorcycle, which was parked just a few feet away. Technically, the bike belonged to Daryl's brother Merle, but it was inherited for the time being while the older Dixon served out his latest jail sentence.

Merle was actually the reason that Beth and Daryl had met in the first place. Daryl had come by the club to settle some debts after Merle was arrested almost a year, ago. Beth was one of several women Merle had borrowed money from and Daryl was determined to pay his brother's debts. It turned out that one of the girls had been knocked up by Merle and Daryl wanted to step up and help her out.

Beth never knew the pregnant girl well, but she saw the good that Daryl was trying to do and she did her best to convince the girl to keep the baby. The girl ended up getting an abortion and leaving town. Daryl was visibly upset when he found out. Beth tried to convince Daryl that it wasn't his fault, but he refused to believe it, so Beth asked him to stay and help her by keeping her safe from the jerks that sometimes tried to hook up with her outside of the club.

They ended up moving into an apartment, together. Daryl acted like her boyfriend to keep the creeps away. She acted like his girlfriend so he wasn't bombarded with what he considered unwanted attention. He cooked and she cleaned. He was transportation and she dealt with the bills. They were friends with a perfect system.

She wished they were friends with **_benefits_**.

"You had any trouble?" Daryl asked while latching his helmet.

Beth shook her head and took the seat behind him. He handed her the pink helmet she liked to wear and he waited patiently until she had securely latched it and settled herself in before he started the bike. She held fast to his waist and rested her head between his shoulder blades.

She never liked riding on a motorcycle. It made her feel exposed when they passed other compact vehicles and when she stared at the pavement too long, it appeared to move up in waves like it was getting closer and closer. Beth's stomach churned wildly whenever Daryl turned a corner. She did her best to focus on other things. The nighttime beauty of skyscrapers. Student sculptures on the sidewalks. Banners that told of festivals and operas. _Holding on to Daryl's body like a warm shield._

Their apartment wasn't but three miles from the club. Beth was grateful that most everywhere they went was but a short trip away. Daryl parked in back and guided her out of her seat. He liked to hide his bike beside the wheelchair ramp because nobody used the ramp and he thought it would never get stolen in such a remote spot. Beth had talked to him many a time about getting a chain or something for security reasons. He scoffed at the notion. He seemed to think he could sense whenever someone was gunning for his ride and he would have no trouble defending it.

Beth took Daryl's right hand and they walked around to the front of the building. Her stomach always twisted a little bit when she had to let go so he could open the main door to the apartment complex where they lived. Daryl didn't like to be touched unless it was absolutely necessary or for her own safety while they were on the motorcycle. It had taken Beth months to get Daryl to accept having his hand held without trying to squeeze the circulation out of hers from his own discomfort.

Beth liked to show affection. It felt so odd having to work for it and it felt even worse when she had to break away. Sometimes she worried that she wasn't exposing Daryl to it enough and he would decide not to let her touch him, anymore. She hoped that day would never come.

As soon as they entered, the brown door to room 17A swung open and a young Korean man came out to greet them.

"Bethy! Bethy, oh my god, I'm so glad you're here!" he shrieked, his eyes wide as saucers.

"What's happened, Glenn?" Beth asked him seriously.

Glenn was the definition of a starving artist. He went through dry spells where his bipolar would send him into deep depressions and he would use drugs to alleviate his moods and inspire more creations. Prescriptions made him tired and weak and deprived him of his creative needs. Street drugs made him think he had god-like powers with a brush. The drugs also induced manic highs that would keep Glenn awake for days.

"Oh, Bethy! You won't believe this!" Glenn shouted.

Beth held a finger to her lips to hush him. Daryl locked the front door and he stood behind Beth with his arms folded in case she needed him. Glenn only noticed her.

"I think...I think...the guy in Fourteen B is dead...again...and he's HAUNTING MY ROOM!"

Glenn twisted his face as if he had just relayed that the world was ending. Beth had seen him in this state, before. He hadn't slept in days and he was hallucinating.

"Let's think this over," Beth pointed at the door to 14B just a few feet away and added, "If Mr. Sanders were dead, that would mean he couldn't pick up his mail. Maybe we should check his mailbox and see what's there."

Glenn's whole face lit up as if illuminated. His eyes somehow managed to spread even wider and he grinned with a new sense of purpose. Beth slowly made her way past Glenn and over to the door of 14B. Glenn stayed in place until she started to lift the mailbox nailed to the wall just beside the door. He suddenly rushed over to stand beside her so he could confirm what Beth was seeing. The mailbox was empty.

"Oh! Oh, thank God! Thank _Picasso_! Thank that lucky bastard who lives in Fourteen B for being alive!' Glenn preached.

Beth put her finger to her lips to hush him, again. He immediately went quiet, but his beaming grin refused to fade.

He leaned in and whispered to her as if it were a secret, "I thought I saw his ghost in my room. That's why I knew he was really dead, this time."

"I'll bet you're just tired, Glenn. Why don't we go on back to your room and you lie down for a bit. I'll check the place over an' make sure there ain't no ghosts."

He made an expression of deep confusion but nodded anyway. Beth linked her arms around one of his and led him back to his apartment. Daryl followed silently behind them, keeping watch from the door frame as Beth took Glenn to his bedroom. He collapsed against the dark red comforter of his twin size and Beth carefully removed his sneakers. She found several blankets and throws from the floor and used them to cover Glenn up. Beth sat by his bedside a minute to sing to him. She pulled the lyrics from a Carrie Underwood song. Beth didn't even reach the chorus before Glenn was out cold.

Beth glanced at the surroundings. Most of Glenn's belongings were in piles on the floor. The smell of rancid food and beverages was easy to pick up. The place hardly looked livable.

"Get me a trash bag. I wanna clean up a bit," she stood up and told Daryl.

He was tired after pulling a double shift. She was tired, too, but Beth couldn't leave Glenn in the sty that had at one time been the cleanest apartment in the whole building.

Daryl snorted and took off. Beth bent down to pick up some random pieces of trash. Her arms were full in the minute it took for Daryl to return with a large black trash bag. He helped her gather up much of the mess, but he refused to touch anything wet or moldy. Beth used paper towels to clean up the contaminated parts of the apartment. She stopped when she found a pile of used condoms stuffed into a sock and stashed in the refrigerator. It was labeled with permanent marker: FOR THE VATOS PROJECT.

"I don't know what that means," she whispered to herself, shaking her head.

Daryl took the trash outside to the dumpster while Beth went upstairs to their apartment. She immediately stepped into the shower. She liked to imagine that lathering her body with soap and letting the water run over her washed away anything that happened to her that she didn't want to keep. While under the warm water, she thought about touching herself. All she could see when she closed her eyes were Glenn's usually soothing almond-shaped eyes looking back at her all wide and bloodshot. She couldn't get aroused.

Beth pushed the curtain back and stepped out of the tub. She smiled. Daryl had slipped in at some point and left her a towel and a change of clothes. Her nighttime wear consisted of a white tank top and a pair of Daryl's boxers. They were like shorts but way more roomy and comfortable. The towel was warm when she used it. The clothes were also warm when she put them on. Daryl must've had them in the dryer before he went to pick her up.

Beth tied her long blond hair back into a loose ponytail. She checked herself in the mirror before going to meet Daryl in the kitchen. He was sitting at the patio table and looking over the classified ads while his left hand idly played with the peeling label of a bottle of beer. He had already set out a glass of milk and a plate of food for Beth. She glanced at the meal. It was spaghetti with slices of meat in it. The meat looked like chicken, but Beth knew better.

Daryl had been working at a local slaughterhouse the last six months. It was very hard work, and co-workers were either illegals or guys with records who couldn't get a job anywhere else. It was real good money, and Daryl had made friends with an Irishman there who kept him out of trouble. The discarded meat that was left behind at the end of the day was given to the workers if they wanted it. Daryl was keen enough to pick out the good pieces so he could bring protein to the table every night.

Beth took a big bite. It tasted fine. Daryl didn't look up from the classifieds until she asked quietly, "You lookin' for somethin' new?"

"Maybe," he chewed his lower lip while he considered some options.

Beth talked to him between bites, "You're gettin' better at typin'."

Daryl scoffed. She ignored him and went on, "Most jobs need computer learnin' nowadays. If you get about thirty-five words on the minute, there 're lots more options."

His soft blue eyes drifted up. He watched her gaze for a moment before his baby blues sank down to her chest. He seemed to be staring at something. Beth furrowed her brow as she tried to read him. _Was he checkin' her out?_

Finally, she looked down. She cursed under her breath when she realized that some of the spaghetti had spilled into her tank and spread sauce down her front.

"Oh, what a mess! I'm sorry!" Beth reached down her tank to fish the tangles of pasta out.

"Ain't no big thang," Daryl mumbled.

"Yeah, it is! You take the time to do all the washin' an' I screw it up in three shakes of a lamb's tail!" Beth stood up from her chair.

She opened the refrigerator and searched for a bottle of club soda. Maggie once said it would get even the toughest stains out. It had proven tried and true for Beth.

"Goddamn," she mumbled to herself as she pulled her tank over her head.

Daryl was still sitting at the table. Beth didn't bother to look and see if he were watching her or not. She was fully exposed from the waist up while she dabbed at her tank with the club soda and massaged the stained fabric. The red on her white tank turned pale pink and faded. Beth looked up after a short while. Daryl was gone.

Beth frowned as she pondered if she had been too comfortable exposing herself in front of Daryl. He had seen her at the club plenty of times before so she thought she had nothing to hide, but his swift exit made her think she had done something wrong. Beth closed the fridge and went to the sink to wipe off the excess sauce from between her breasts. She couldn't help feeling self-conscious that maybe Daryl didn't like what he saw. When she was on stage, it didn't matter if men liked her body or not. _Only Daryl made her feel this way._

He returned without warning from the back room where the laundry was kept. He had a clean tank top in his hand. Beth still felt insecure and she instinctively draped the stained tank top over her front to cover herself.

Daryl was stoic as he said, "Brought you a new one," and added as he held it out to her, "Gotta take the old one back."

He didn't seem bothered by the fact that she would have to expose herself once more. Beth revealed herself again as she handed over the stained one. He took it willingly and she snatched the new one out of his hand. Beth quickly threw it on and dressed herself. Daryl watched her all the while, his expression betraying nothing. She searched his face. Whatever he was thinking, he didn't make it known.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Beth said to break the silence.

He shrugged. She quickly added, "You can't get mad, though!"

Daryl stiffened as he braced himself to hear something he wouldn't like. He nodded shortly for her to continue.

"You think about guys the way I would?" Beth asked, bracing herself for an outburst.

She didn't want to ask Daryl outright if he were gay. He usually shut down when it came to blunt questions. By asking in a way that gave him an out, he might take the bait and respond with less ire. Daryl's eyes wandered over her frame and down to the spot between her breasts that was stained moments, before. She knew the answer to her question even before he said it.

"No," his tobacco-charred vocal cords hummed thickly.

Beth felt the need to ask him more. She wanted to know how he felt about _her_. He seemed to sense where the conversation was going and he left the room so fast, Beth had to blink a few times to register he was gone.

"What do ya think of me?" she whispered.

Whether he heard her or not, he didn't answer.


	2. Who I Wanna Be

**Two: Who I Wanna Be  
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"Hey there, Baby Bird! You look like you wanna jus' fly away."

Merle made his way toward her in the narrow hallway. He had just come from the bathroom and it showed. He was high on something and he smelled like one of the toilet cakes. Beth did not want to venture to guess why.

She was near the front entrance and she considered going out the door before Merle got to her, but Beth didn't like being rude. Merle resembled the henchmen of most super villains, but he was the lesser of the many evils that stepped foot in this place.

Beth was watching one of those evils sitting at the far side of the main room when Merle showed up. She tried to look away so Merle wouldn't notice what she was doing, but he saw the fear in her long before she became aware of it.

Merle glanced over at the evil Beth had been watching. The evil was a tall man with a military-style way about him. Buzz cut, commando jeans and a light green t-shirt showcasing bulging muscles. The guy was built solid and had a pair of dead eyes to boot. It'd take more than a couple of bouncers to bring him down.

"Is that boy botherin' you?" Merle nodded over at the evil across the room.

Beth folded her arms and snapped back, "Shouldn't you be lookin' for Andrea? You two are a couple, ain't that right?"

Merle's gaze went cold and Beth regretted trying to make an enemy out of him. She let her arms down and turned her eyes away. Merle took her body language as a form of apology and went back to his usual crude self, "I ain't her keeper. Jus' 'cause we share the same bed, don't mean we share more 'han that, knaw mean?"

She thought she knew what he meant, but she didn't dare try and ask. She just nodded her head and turned her attention back to the man across the room.

"Ya know, if that boy's givin' you a hard time, I'll go over there an' scare him off for ya...for a kiss," Merle leaned forward and pouted his lips.

Beth whirled around to get away from him and rushed out the door. She was halfway down the block when he came out and called after her, "Come back here, Baby Bird! Papa Jaybird was jus' playin' around! Come on, now! If you really wanna be saved, I'll sick my lil' brother on your boy! Daryl looooovvees savin' a damsel in distress!"

"Wha's wrong?" Daryl asked.

His razorblade voice took Beth out of her memories and back to the present day. It was nearly a year ago since she last saw Merle Dixon. He was back in jail for drug possession and breaking and entering. She wondered sometimes if he liked it better on the _inside_.

"Nothin'," she shook her head and poured her coffee.

It was three in the afternoon, but since they worked nights, this was their breakfast time. Daryl had made pancakes and eggs while Beth was in the shower. She usually only wanted coffee, but she'd take a few bites because it made Daryl less grouchy.

"You was thinkin' 'bout somethin' big," he pointed out.

She shook her head, but he refused to forget it. Daryl hopped up on the counter and jammed an entire pancake into his mouth like it was his last meal. He always ate that way, but he was doing it this time to make her laugh.

Beth relented between giggles, "I was just thinkin' 'bout Merle."

"_Murffe_?!" Daryl's full mouth growled.

She rolled her eyes and argued, "It weren't nothin' bad! I was just thinkin' 'bout a time when he said he'd help me at the club."

Daryl swallowed everything down and made a hard frown. Beth added quietly, "It was before I knew you. I didn't have anyone to protect me, then."

He nodded but his frown sank deeper. Beth knew he was regretting that he hadn't met her, sooner. She went on to distract him, "It don't matter, now. I was havin' trouble with a guy who kept comin' around. His name was Shane, or at least that's what he told me. Shane was startin' to come by all the time askin' for me. I thought he might do somethin' bad if I turned him down, again. Merle offered to make him go away is all. I dunno what happened to Shane. He just stopped comin' by after a while."

"Merle chase him off?" Daryl asked curiously.

"No," Beth took a sip of coffee and surmised with a shrug, "I woulda been fine with Merle helpin' me, but he wanted somethin' in return."

"Wha's tha'?" Daryl asked.

Beth suddenly felt her cheeks growing hot. She quickly went over to the kitchen table and sat down to check the paper. Daryl waited for her to go on. When she didn't, he hopped down from the counter and said, "Merle's still at County. I'll jus' go an' ask 'im."

"Wait!" Beth shouted, stopping Daryl on his way out the door.

He came back and smugly took the seat across from her. She took in a deep breath and explained, "He wanted...a kiss."

She studied Daryl's expression. His lip twitched slightly, but he was quick to hide anything he was feeling behind a hard glare.

"Tha's all?" he scoffed.

His indifference made her angry enough to slam her hands against the table in an effort to stand up. Beth called over her shoulder as she left the room, "It's degrading! I don' need some man to save me just so he can...suck my face!"

She was looking for the most disgusting way to phrase a kiss, but it had come out sounding more like a joke than anything. She listened intently to make sure Daryl wasn't laughing as she walked away. If he was, she'd go back in there and flip him off.

:-:

* * *

><p>Beth planned on staying away from Daryl for a while, but they had to go shopping and if she sent him by himself, he'd come back with nothing but pork rinds and beer. She resented being so afraid of riding on his motorcycle as she desperately clung to his waist like a teenage girl. There were even some guys in the parking lot of the supermarket who shot her those looks like they wanted to say, <em>"Baby, I'd let you ride on my motorcycle anytime."<em>

She was so mad at Daryl, she was actually considering taking one of those guys up on their offer. Daryl wasn't the jealous type, though. He'd probably tell her she was makin' an ass out of herself and she'd just end up feeling worse.

He followed her into the store and he stayed behind her while she took a cart and started going down their list. They were quiet the whole time, but Daryl didn't need words to know when she wanted him. The high shelves were especially tricky for her, but he had no trouble getting things down. Being mad at him while simultaneously needing his help was putting her at her wit's end.

"Beth, honey! There you are!"

She stopped short when she saw Jane McMasters trotting down the aisle toward her. Jane was a neighbor from back home. Everyone there thought Beth had gone to Atlanta to pursue a country music career.

Even with no way she'd get caught at a neutral place like the grocery store, Beth still felt a twinge of guilt and shame for lying to someone who'd cared so much for her in the past.

"Well, look at you! The country girl gone to the big city!" Jane enveloped Beth in a huge hug.

Jane's long auburn curls tickled Beth's cheeks. She still smelled like apple pie. It made Beth miss home.

"And is this your beau?" she asked when they parted, taking a good long look at Daryl.

"Yes, ma'am, this is Daryl Dixon! Daryl, this is Jane McMasters! She was like a second mama to me when I was growin' up," Beth introduced them.

Daryl nodded a hello without offering his hand, but Jane ended up taking both of his hands and clasping them with hers. She smiled and told him, "Aren't _you_ a handsome one."

She was shaking her head while she said it. Beth could tell Jane was being fake. Daryl knew it, too.

She let him go and reached for her basket, telling Beth before she left, "You let me know when your album comes out! I'm gonna buy every last copy the moment it hits the shelves!"

"Yes, ma'am," Beth replied.

She waited until Jane was out of sight before she looked back at Daryl. He was staring down the opposite end of the aisle with his arms folded.

"Don't listen to her. She don't know you like I do," Beth said.

Daryl shrugged like he was trying to make the hurt fall away.

Beth took the basket and redirected it so they could move on. When Daryl didn't immediately follow, she stopped to look back at him and added, "I think you're real handsome."

He looked up at her and blinked a few times like the words took a while to register. He finally let his arms down.

"We need a few more things," she started off again, beckoning him to come along.

She was about to reach for some canned goods at the end of the aisle when she felt his presence behind her. Daryl brought the cans down and placed them in the basket as he mumbled, "You shouldn' haveta kiss nobody if you don' wan' to."

That was his way of making an apology for earlier. She accepted it willingly and pecked his cheek for good measure. He flinched, but he didn't step back like he usually did when he was on the receiving end of a display of affection.

"I like boys with a little grease on their hands," she teased as she walked away.

She didn't have to look back to know he was checking himself for grease stains.


	3. Meant for Me

Author's Note: I'm sure you are all delighted (**_disgusted_**) to hear about my stomach virus being the inspiration for this story, but it's completely and utterly true. To add to what could already be labeled as an official **_TMI_**, I got sick AGAIN the other night and spent nearly 24-hours confined to bed, where I came up with this chapter. I'm very proud of it at the moment, but I did want to forewarn my readers that it does touch upon a subject sensitive to us ladies. I'll probably re-read this chapter later and curse my past self for actually posting it. Even in recovery mode, my mind tends to go through a sort of manic state while trying to balance itself out and my inhibitions go missing. I probably shouldn't write in this state, but _all I want to do_ is write in this state. It's like being a drunkard committing random acts of stupid mistakes without the alcohol.

**Three: Meant for Me  
><strong>

The apartment had two bedrooms, but Daryl mostly slept with Beth after he discovered that she was a deeply troubled sleeper.

She often had vivid nightmares that she would act out in her sleep. She had hurt herself a number of times and Daryl was concerned she would accidentally kill herself while fending off the figures in her dreams. She would sometimes sleepwalk and Daryl would follow her around to make sure she was safe. Daryl was a light sleeper and he let Beth take the side of the bed closest to the wall so he could block her from getting past him. She usually couldn't crawl out to sleepwalk without climbing over him, but there were times when she managed to get out by bypassing Daryl and sliding down to the foot of the bed. He rarely slept through her escape attempts. He hated himself when he did. Those were the times she'd get _hurt_.

This time, Daryl woke up to Beth screaming.

Her violent shrieking came without warning. Daryl was so startled, he fell out of bed but managed to land nimbly on his feet. He climbed back into bed and quickly grabbed Beth by her wrists so she wouldn't lash out and scratch them both up.

"Beth! Beth!" he called out to her.

She was screaming too loudly to hear him. Her face was twisted into an expression of explicit suffering. Her voice was already going hoarse, but the sound was no less horrific.

"Beth!" Daryl came around behind her and held her arms at her sides.

She was fighting him despite his efforts. He did his best to hold her against him. If she kept it up, he worried the neighbors would call the cops because they thought Beth was being murdered.

Daryl pressed his lips to her ear and told her, "Beth, I'm right here. You're safe."

He didn't have to yell being so close to her. Somewhere in her mind, Beth must've heard him. She slowly came out of her nightmare. Daryl could see her eyelashes fluttering rapidly. He could feel her body trembling. Her skin was hot and covered in sweat. He lessened his grip on her arms but kept a hold on them in case she wasn't completely awake, yet.

"Ow," Beth mumbled, making a pained gasp.

"Where's it hurt?" Daryl rubbed her wrists in case he had been holding her too tightly.

They slept during the day, so Beth had bought room darkening curtains to keep the light out. Some light still managed to slip through the top and sides of the curtain. Daryl looked down and saw dark stains on the sheets and around Beth's bottoms.

He curiously reached down and pressed his fingertips between her legs. Beth didn't move to stop him or say anything in protest. She just sucked in a breath and held it.

"You're all wet down there," he focused on the fabric of the boxers and ignored the fact that he could somewhat feel the curly hair just on the other side.

"Oh, God!" Beth shot out of bed and away from his grip.

Daryl stared at the stains on the sheets. His hunter's skills easily picked up on the blood. He could see a sheen of it on his fingers where he had touched Beth. He was aware that girls had periods and most guys thought of it as a taboo subject, but seeing it for what it was hardly affected Daryl at all. Maybe it was all the time he used to spend draining fresh kills and taking them apart in the woods. Whatever the reason, he didn't want Beth to run away from him over something she couldn't help.

"Beth," he stated calmly.

She was too embarrassed to face him. She just opened the door and called over her shoulder, "Go on back to your room! I'll clean it up! Just pretend this _**NEVER**_ happened!"

Beth slammed the door before Daryl could get another word out, edgewise. He stared at the sheets a while, longer. Beth said she'd take care of it, but Daryl's hunting days had provided him with a few dozen ways to easily remove blood stains.

Maybe he should've been more bothered by it. Maybe that's how a normal guy would react. He just couldn't bring himself to be that affected. He wanted Beth to know it didn't bother him. She had locked herself in the bathroom. He wondered if she'd come out anytime, soon.

:-:

* * *

><p>Beth was absolutely horrified.<p>

She didn't know if she could ever face Daryl, again. Why did she have to do this on a night that he was lying in bed with her? Not to mention the fact that he reached down and felt it! _Oh, God! _He was half an inch away from being able to bring her to orgasm! Now, he'd probably associate trying to go down on her with getting blood on his hands!

Beth couldn't stop the horrible thoughts racing through her mind. She turned on the shower and cried quietly while she rinsed herself off. The more shame and humiliation she felt, the more difficult it was to believe Daryl would ever think of her in a _sexual_ way.

"He's not even my boyfriend," she scolded herself for being so childish.

She turned the shower off and stepped out of the tub. It was only after she had dried off that she realized she didn't have another pair of bottoms to put on. She put her tank top back on and went to work on the stained boxers in the sink. Since they were Daryl's, she wanted to scrub the boxers until they were beyond clean to make it up to him. Even if he still decided to throw them out, at least she would know she had tried to make it right.

The stain wasn't coming out as well as she wanted it to. Beth stifled more tears and squatted down to get into her hatbox on the floor underneath the sink. It was filled with supplies for her monthly needs. It was also the only place Daryl never looked, so she kept her butterfly-shaped vibrator in there, along with a few tea lights that she used for long baths on her days off when Daryl worked late.

He had a weird qualm with candles. Whenever Beth so much as glanced at a candle in the store, Daryl would frown and go on about how they were useless novelty items designed to mask bad odors that shouldn't even be there if, "The contractors done did the plumbing or carpeting or whatever hell else right in the first place!"

He was even worse when it came to scented candles. Daryl believed the scents were based on things that, "Ain't even in the real world," or foods that only made people want to, "Go out an' buy a bunch o' desserts to fatten 'em all up!"

She had managed to get the tea lights from another girl at the club. Daryl found a stray one on the kitchen table that had fallen out of her purse.

"What the hell's this?" he pointed at it and glared.

"A tea light," she tried to sound sweet so he wouldn't be so mad.

He held it up to the light to inspect it and unexpectedly licked the wax part. He made a sour face and argued, "It don't taste like no tea!"

Then he tossed it in the trash and added as he left the room, "That candle's for pussies!"

She shot back at him, "I HAVE A _**PUSSY**_!"

He scoffed loudly down the hallway. He never brought up an argument about something being for pussies, again.

Beth reached for a tampon and closed the hatbox just as she heard a soft knock at the bathroom door. Daryl spoke quietly from the other side, "Brought you a pair."

He didn't sound judgmental, but Beth couldn't help feeling upset. She was sure he had probably brought her a pair of her own shorts after she'd just ruined a pair of his boxers. She opened the door and snatched away what was in his hand without looking at it. His eyes drifted down. She pretended not to be aware that she was completely exposed below the waist as she yelled rather harshly, "Thanks!"

Daryl flinched like the snap in her words had turned physical once it reached him. She slammed the door and locked it. She looked down at what he had brought for her and she almost burst into tears.

He had given her another pair of his boxers.

She regretted being so mean to him. She called back through the door, "Daryl, I'm sorry!"

He didn't respond. She hoped he had stood there long enough to hear her. Beth got herself together and finished cleaning the other boxers in the sink before she dared to leave the bathroom. She took the boxers out of the sink and tightened the fabric to get most of the water out. She balled it in her hand and opened the door to peek out.

Daryl was nowhere to be seen. Beth made her way to the kitchen. He wasn't there. She continued to the large open closet in the back where they kept the washer and dryer. Beth planned to put some more stain remover on the boxers in her hand before putting them in the wash.

The washer was already running when she got there. Beth could see her white sheets in the circular window. There were several bottles of unlabeled chemicals on the floor. She hadn't even thought of the fact that Daryl was a hunter and probably had dozens of ways to get out blood stains.

"_Fuck_," she sighed.

Somehow, she had found a way to feel even worse. She tossed the wet boxers into the dirty laundry basket and slowly made her way back to her room. Daryl had replaced the sheets on her bed with clean ones. Beth climbed into bed and buried herself under her blankets. She hoped the world would forget about her for a while.

:-:

* * *

><p>She kept getting up to use the bathroom. Something was wrong. Beth could feel it.<p>

She waited until Daryl was up and in the kitchen making breakfast. Beth came in and asked him, "Would you mind takin' me to a doctor?"

He nodded without hesitation.

:-:

* * *

><p>The doctor's office was nearly full. There were children playing on the floor and toys were scattered everywhere. An old man was coughing furiously in the corner. A heavier man with a lazy eye kept trying to put his focus on Beth's chest. Daryl wouldn't stop fidgeting in the seat next to her. Beth hated filling out forms. She always had to list the fact that her father was an alcoholic. Though she had never showed signs of the addiction, doctors always made it a point to warn her about her susceptibility.<p>

She didn't like being looked at like a potential victim of her father's _demons_.

"Beth Greene?" the pretty nurse behind the window called her out.

She managed to make her way through the maze of toys on the floor. A three-year-old with a long head of curly golden locks beamed up at her when she passed. Those were the moments when Beth really wanted a baby of her own.

Daryl stayed in the waiting room. Beth wondered how bored he was. She knew she'd have to come up with something big to make it up to him after all he'd done for her in the last twelve hours. She'd seen her friends take advantage of boys to serve their own needs, before. She never wanted to be one of _those_ girls.

"It looks like we've got a case of clotting," Dr. Spencer told her after a few minor tests and several questions.

It sounded bad. Beth made a worried look. Dr. Spencer's thin lips spread into a sweet smile of reassurance. She made Beth feel better.

"This is not an uncommon thing. Women who don't have regular periods often run into problems like clotting. The blood simply stays where it is and builds up until it suddenly releases. It usually happens without warning and this can be very frightening."

Beth decided not to tell the doctor about her embarrassing moment with Daryl and simply nodded.

"There are ways to remedy the situation and avoid further problems down the line. Birth control is very effective in keeping periods regular. I can prescribe a low hormone contraceptive to reduce any risks."

Beth swallowed hard. She had always believed birth control to be something of a forbidden subject. Maggie was the only one who took them. Beth never liked that she did. Their religion called it a sin. The girls at school that used them boasted about their many boyfriends. Beth had always associated birth control with an excuse for girls to have as much sex as they wanted without consequences. She had never even heard of someone using it to control irregular periods.

"I'll tell you what, I'll fill a prescription at your pharmacy, and you choose whether you want to pick it up or not," Dr. Spencer had easily picked up on Beth's nervousness.

"Um...okay," Beth nodded.

She could hear Maggie's voice teasing her in the back of her mind, "Look at you now, girl! Ain't so _innocent_, no more!"

:-:

* * *

><p>Daryl waited for Beth to come out. He watched the children playing to pass the time. The three-year-old with the long yellow hair was sure a cutie. He didn't mind being around kids, but he had never thought as much about having some of his own.<p>

When Beth did reappear, she looked distraught. Daryl's instincts kicked in and he nearly shot out of his seat. He prepared himself for whatever might be coming. He would protect her no matter what. _No matter fuckin' what._

Beth took a follow-up card from the receptionist and Daryl followed her outside. She turned to face him and said, "I'm sorry for bein' so mean. I'm just tired is all."

He could tell she was on the verge of tears. Daryl stood taller to show her he could take anything she might throw at him as he asked, "Wha's wrong?"

"Nothin' real bad," she shook her head and wiped any stray tears away, "But I gotta pick somethin' up at the drug store."

Daryl was sure it had something to do with her bleeding. There were too many stains on her sheets not to cause concern.

He nodded and chewed his lower lip. Beth didn't offer more information, so Daryl went around to grab his motorcycle.

They rode in silence to the drug store. Daryl waited nearby while Beth went to the pharmacy to pick up what she needed. He kept his distance so she wouldn't get the idea he was trying to eavesdrop.

A heavy woman with stringy hair stood behind the checkout window. She glanced over Beth's prescription and made a deep frown of disapproval. Beth's cheeks turned bright red. Daryl didn't understand why.

The woman handed the prescription over. Daryl was just close enough to hear her criticize Beth, "A lil' girl like you without no wedding ring don't need to be takin' no birth control!"

There was no one else around to hear it, but Beth was as mortified as if the woman had announced it over the loudspeakers. Beth shoved the prescription as far down into her purse as it would go. Her hands were trembling as she struggled to pull out some cash. The woman just stood there with a smug look on her face like she was completely in the right.

Daryl was _furious_.

"What the fuck, lady?!" Daryl stormed over and pointed right at the woman.

She took a big step back. Beth gazed at Daryl with widened eyes as he chewed the cashier out with a series of lies, "How care you call out my wife for takin' care of herself, huh?! You know, we've got two at home and we're plannin' on more real soon, but we're takin' our dear sweet goddamn time, not that it's any o' your damn business! An' you think she ain't married 'cause she ain't got no goddamn ring? I took it down to the ring man so's he could add a bigger diamond! Now you gone an' made me spoil the surprise!"

By that time, the pharmacist had been alerted to the goings on. Daryl shouted a few more profanities and lies while he pulled a crumpled twenty from his own pocket and tossed it on the counter.

"Keep the fuckin' change, damn bitch!" Daryl spat.

The woman was too dumbfounded to provide a counter-attack. Daryl quickly took Beth by the wrist and led her away before the pharmacist could get to them. He led Beth along until they were back outside and well into the parking lot. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed them.

Daryl let Beth go and he paced back and forth like a caged animal. He rambled in his riled up state, "Dumb bitch! Thinks she can tell ya how ta live yer life! What does she know?! She sits behind a damn counter all day-"

A _**kiss**_ from Beth stopped him short.

Her lips were soft and wet. He could taste the salt from her tears. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him as tightly as she could, a gesture that would've normally given him cause to pull away, but he was caught completely off-guard.

Daryl clutched the backs of her elbows. He debated between yanking her off of him and gently leading her back. He was riled up enough to commit the former, but her kiss had given him reason not to need excessive force.

He didn't have to think about it so much. Beth let him go after just a short while and buried her head against his chest. He couldn't register until almost a minute afterwards that the kiss itself wasn't so bad. The sensation of her lips lingered on his for a while. When it faded, he felt the need to _feel_ it, again.

"I love you, Daryl Dixon," Beth mumbled against his chest.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard those words. Maybe his mother had said it to him when he was a kid. Maybe he'd just heard it said by actors on a TV show or in the movies. He never really knew what the words meant or why it was so important for people to say it to each other. Apparently, it meant something to Beth.

"Do you love me, too?" she whispered.

"Mmm-hmm," he replied.

The words may not have meant something to him, but _**she**_ did.

* * *

><p>Author's End Note: I wanted to point out that I'm very grateful for the surprise hit this story has become so far! Thank you to the reviewers and those of you who are followingfavoriting/whatevering! Seeing higher stats compels me to provide quicker updates!


	4. If You'll Follow Me

**Four: If You'll Follow Me  
><strong>

Daryl couldn't stop thinking about that **_kiss_**.

He went to work after he took Beth home from the pharmacy. He saw a moving van just outside of the apartment complex when he left. There was a tall, lanky guy bent over inside the truck and a pre-teen scowling by some boxes on the street. The teen perked up a bit when he saw Daryl passing. He had probably been taught to mind his manners even when he was busy pouting.

Daryl mounted his bike and set his helmet. The teen watched with curious interest but didn't say a word. Daryl assumed the teen was probably using the silent treatment on his father in the truck and he didn't want to alert anyone that his mood had changed.

"I'm Carl," the teen said just before Daryl started his motorcycle.

Daryl nodded that he had heard him. The teen named Carl made a huge grin. Daryl knew at that moment that this kid had built an instant attachment to him and he would be looking for attention every time they met. What made Daryl uncomfortable was how Carl's dad was going to feel about his son hanging out with an older biker who wore leather vests and worked at a slaughterhouse.

Daryl was certain the connection wouldn't last long.

His mind kept drifting back to thoughts of Beth on his way to work. It was her day off and he worried she would try to take a nap while he was gone and she would end up sleepwalking, again. He wasn't exactly sure why her episodes were so strong, but he had pieced together the stories she told about her past to get a good idea of what might be the trigger.

Beth had lost her mother while she was still a young teen. She didn't talk about it much, but Daryl gathered that Beth was at the age where parents had become uncool and the mother she did everything with as a child became the one person she wanted to drift away from. Daryl had heard stories about Maggie's rebellion, and Beth's form of anarchy was much simpler, but she had still done enough to feel guilty when her mother died within three months of a breast cancer diagnosis.

He had also pieced together another tragic story from Beth's past. During her Senior year of high school, Beth was dating a boy named Jimmy. He was a neighbor and family friend, and they grew up together. Beth had told Daryl that Jimmy died in a car accident a few months before graduation. Daryl was rifling through the closet one night while Beth was at work and a shoe box full of photos and articles fell down. He glanced at each one before putting them back in the box. He came across several newspaper articles that talked about Jimmy's accident. He was driving too fast and rear-ended a semi. Jimmy was decapitated.

Beth never said as much, but Daryl assumed that Jimmy was her first. From what she had said about their relationship, it didn't sound like Beth was as interested in Jimmy as he was with her, but she certainly held a place in her heart for him.

Daryl had never known Jimmy, but he couldn't help wondering what traits Jimmy had that made Beth fall for him. Daryl pondered many theories while he worked through the evening. His co-worker, Connor MacManus, didn't seem to mind that Daryl was so lost in thought.

"Wha's on yer mind, then?" Connor asked when the had a break for lunch.

Connor was a Boston-born man of Irish heritage. He carried the accent and the hard-headedness with him to Atlanta. Daryl usually kept to himself, but Connor felt like a brother to him.

"Beth went an' kissed me," Daryl tried to shrug it off like it was no big deal.

Connor smiled but didn't get loud and obnoxious about it. Daryl liked that.

"You kiss 'er back?" he teased.

Daryl scoffed and argued, "A'course I kissed her back!"

Connor leaned in closely and whispered, "You put yer tongue down 'er thrawt?"

Daryl stifled a chuckle and replied shortly, "No, I didn'."

"Aw, too bad for 'er," Connor acted disappointed.

They ate for a few minutes in silence. The humid Atlanta air was still thick even after the sun went down. The insect population was worse after nightfall and sometimes Daryl swore he saw giant, mutated versions trying to fly at his face when he wasn't paying attention.

"You tell 'er you luv 'er?" Connor asked to break the billowing of bullfrogs in the distance.

"Sort of," Daryl mumbled.

Connor looked at him wide-eyed and argued, "Sor' of? Sor' of?! You gotta dew it righ' or she'll move on to a man who weel!"

Daryl nodded that he understood. They finished their meals and tossed their garbage. Connor mentioned over his shoulder, "Any girl takes up yer mind this long; she's a keeper."

"Yeah, she is," Daryl replied with another nod.

:-:

* * *

><p>Daryl finished his shift around five in the morning. He waited around for his paycheck and he didn't end up getting home until close to eight-thirty. He was surprised to see the light on to their apartment when he parked his motorcycle. Daryl also noticed that the moving van was gone. He knew that the apartment next to theirs had been vacant for a while. Daryl was reminded that the kid named Carl had made a connection with him. If we was just next door, it would be even harder to let the kid down once his father said Daryl wasn't a good role model.<p>

He made his way inside and he saw that Glenn's door was locked. He must've run out of drugs and he was finally sleeping. Glenn would be dead to the world for at least four days until he decided to sell some of his work and spend his earnings on more "inspiration."

Daryl was coming up the stairs when he heard someone talking in the hallway. He recognized the first voice as Beth's. She was giggling like she did when she really liked somebody.

The other voice was distinctly male. He sounded intelligent. Daryl immediately despised him.

"You should let me know! I'll come by sometime and fix it for you," the male voice sounded low, soft and soothing.

Beth giggled, again. Daryl made his footfalls sound a little louder as he scaled the stairwell. He caught sight of Beth once he reached the top step. She was standing outside their apartment in a tank top and a short jean skirt. She was wearing her cowgirl boots and her hair was in a cute ponytail. Her face looked flushed like she had just scrubbed it, but she still looked _so_ _damn_ _beautiful_.

The tall, lanky man was standing next to her. Daryl had only seen his ass and the back of his legs when he passed the moving van, earlier. He turned to face him and Daryl was put-off by the fact that the man not only had a nice voice, but he was good-looking to boot.

The teen named Carl was standing in the door frame of the apartment next to Daryl and Beth's. Daryl's suspicions were confirmed. They were set to be neighbors.

Carl perked up again when he caught sight of Daryl. The tall man glanced at Carl but said nothing about the sudden change. Beth waved at Daryl and told him, "This is Rick Grimes and his son, Carl. They just moved in next door!"

Carl nodded a hello at him. Rick smiled and leaned forward a bit while he gauged Daryl the same way cop tried to read a suspect. Daryl had seen that kind of strong probing many times, before. It mostly happened when cops were trying to determine if Daryl were an accomplice to Merle's many illegal activities. Daryl easily determined that Rick must be a lawman.

"Rick used to work as a deputy! It's so amazing, the stories he has to tell!" Beth was practically glowing as she spoke.

Daryl side-stepped his way to the far side of the hall. He slowly made his way down to stand beside Beth while he studied Rick with careful consideration.

"A former cop, huh?" was all Daryl could think to say.

"Yup, but that don't mean I'm gonna try and bust everyone all the time. I'm retired," Rick stated.

Daryl noticed the way that Rick stood with his hands on his hips like a cop would. Even as he said he wouldn't be putting any heat on people, Daryl's instincts told him Rick was only saying that to make them feel more comfortable. In reality, he looked so well trained by his precinct that he unconsciously held on to the mannerisms, meaning he had retained a lot more than he wanted others to know about. Daryl made a mental note that Rick may come back on him if he finds out Merle's a convict. There was also the Glenn situation downstairs. One look at a Korean artist screaming about dead people in his room and the whole place would be raided.

"I should let you two go," Rick nodded and turned to leave.

It was almost like he had read Daryl's mind and he knew his attempt to make things comfortable had failed. Rick was on his way back to Carl when Beth called to them, "Why don't you stop by for breakfast in a few? Daryl makes a mean set of pancakes!"

"Pancakes!" Carl shouted eagerly.

Daryl shot Beth a hard stare. She frowned like she didn't understand why he was so upset. Rick watched them with his hands still on his hips as he said, "I think we'll pass this time."

"No, please! I was helpin' you unpack, remember? I know you don't have your kitchen set up! You should have somethin' to eat!" Beth stated.

Daryl's eyes widened at the mention of her helping unpack. His eyes narrowed again when he realized that Rick had probably been watching Beth bend over repeatedly to open boxes and gather things to hold against her chest. _Asshole_.

"We'll just get some take out," Rick nodded and waved.

"But, Daaaad!" Carl wailed.

Rick turned Carl around and directed him back into the apartment. Carl was still arguing as Rick closed the door behind them. Beth immediately turned her attention on Daryl and folded her arms to protest, "What was _that_ all about?"

"Not ou' here," Daryl motioned with his chin that they should go into their own apartment to talk.

"You made me feel like a fool!" Beth stomped her foot and glared at him.

Daryl refused to make his argument in the hallway. It was too public for his taste. Beth whirled around on her heel and stormed away from him. She turned back to flip him off and she shut the door to the apartment before he could step inside. He waited a few seconds before he opened the door and slowly came inside. He could see Beth heading to her room and she slammed that door when she got there.

He didn't know how to tell her he was jealous. It sounded all kinds of stupid.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Not sure if any of you noticed, but Connor is a character from Boondock Saints. Norman Reedus plays Murphy, the brother of Connor, which is why I mentioned in this chapter that Connor feels like a brother to Daryl. I really like the second Boondock Saints and I was watching it again the other day for my Reedus fix and I thought Connor would be a perfect addition to this story. I also think Sean Patrick Flanery, who plays Connor, is one of the only a handful of actors I've seen who seems to perfectly mesh with Norman Reedus. I've been a fan of Norman since the 90's and in those days it was much harder to get a fix on actors I liked (remember having to wait almost a year for movies to come out on video?) I remember going downtown to my local two-screen movie theater and I saw Deuces Wild so many times in a row that the manager let me have free refills on my drink and popcorn because he said he'd never seen anyone, "So dedicated to a dude who doesn't look like your typical Brad Pitt."<p> 


	5. Between Me

**Five: Between Me  
><strong>

Rick Grimes was a _**dedicated**_ _**father**_. At least, that's what he told himself, now.

The split from his wife was ugly. People say it can sometimes take up to two years to finalize everything and call yourself free. Rick felt like it had taken decades. Carl was ten and Lori was six months pregnant with a baby girl when she decided she'd had enough. They didn't really love each other anymore, but Rick couldn't stand the thought of Carl growing up with two houses and four parents and all the drama that comes from being a child of _**divorce**_.

Lori stressed herself out too much. Rick believed this was why their daughter Judith was stillborn. It was the most sorrowful sign the universe could ever give a family to show them how much they weren't meant to be. Lori basically lost it after that. Rick couldn't really blame her.

She waited six months before leaving. Rick was taking her to couples therapy and Lori seemed to be grieving over Judith's death the way she was supposed to. Just before she left, Lori was even making an effort to rekindle the spark they once had. She gave Rick the night of his life the same night she took off.

He didn't remember seeing a piece of luggage in the closet. He didn't remember noticing that some of her clothes were gone. He didn't remember hearing her leave. She left most everything else but took a photo album. She left the wedding album behind. Rick felt a prick like a needle to the heart when he noticed that.

Lori was gone. It were as if she never were. Carl was furious. He blamed Rick for sending his mother away. Carl kept contact with Lori through his cell phone. She sent him regular texts. Wherever she was, she hadn't completely forgotten about her son. Rick thought about calling her. He thought the better of it.

She sent him divorce papers through the mail. The return address was from a suburb of Atlanta. Rick wanted to believe that Lori went there to go back to school. She had always wanted to be a nurse. His gut told him it wasn't likely. He ignored his instincts for Carl's sake.

When Rick looked back on it, now, it really was only about two years before everything was finalized. Carl had changed rapidly in that time. He had been given good reason to start his teenage rebellion stage early. He was constantly making friends with the wrong crowds and the school in their small town was threatening to expel him. Rick was getting tired of the job. His best friend Shane had moved to Atlanta years earlier. Rick's parents had long since passed. He had nothing left to make the term _**home**_ sound true.

He was almost out of money when he made the decision to retire. He'd have some benefits to get by after being on the force for so long. He and Carl packed up the house. They sold most things or gave them to charity. Rick gave the wedding album to a family friend who wanted to add it to her collection of genealogy research. Rick was just glad to get it off his hands without having to _burn_ it.

The cheapest place in Atlanta was an apartment complex on _Davere_ Ave. It was technically in a shadier part of town, but Rick had some connections with Atlanta P.D. He considered himself aware enough to keep Carl safe and the rent left him plenty of money to move them out if things went South.

Being from a small town, Rick was the friendly type but didn't expect as much when they got to Atlanta. He hoped that Carl would be able to get used to city life. It could very well be a step in the wrong direction if Carl decided not to clean up his act.

The first person Rick saw when they pulled up to the place was an older woman coming down the front steps with short dark hair that was almost gray. She had somber blue eyes that made her whole body look eternally sad. She was wearing a faded floral sundress and she seemed completely unaware of those around her until she looked up at the last second.

She lifted a frail hand and waved. Carl and Rick waved back. Her sadness seemed to disappear for a moment when she smiled. The smile faded and the sadness returned. Rick got out and went around to greet her more formally. She flinched when he reached out a hand to her and introduced himself.

"Carol. Carol Peletier," she shook his hand.

She pulled her hand away first and glanced around like she was worried someone had seen them. Rick was aware of the body language and voice patterns of a battered woman. He hoped she didn't have any kids.

"Is that your son?" Carol smiled again, and Rick thought he liked her better that way.

"Yeah, that's Carl," Rick motioned for him to come out.

Carl stayed where he was.

"I have..." Carol changed her mind and said simply, "I think you'll like it, here. Lots of friendly faces. It's almost like the country. Everyone helps one another."

Rick liked the sound of that. He grinned and Carol relaxed her shoulders slightly. She waved good-bye at Carl and told Rick, "I'm off to the store. Do you need anything?"

"I think we're good for now. Thank you, though," he nodded to her.

She smiled once more before turning to leave. Rick saw so much more potential in Carol than she wanted to recognize in herself. He was never one to put up with abusive people and he always wondered why there were those out there who did. _What made them stay? What made them think it was acceptable behavior? What kept most of them from not eventually __**killing**__ their abuser?_

"Daaaaaad!" Carl groaned as he hopped out of the van.

Carl tried his best to look downtrodden and tired. They had managed to get through the move-out without a hitch, but it became clear to Rick that Carl was merely reserving his angst-ridden fits for the move-in. Rick made a frustrated sigh and opened the back of the van. He prepared himself for an onslaught.

"Daaaaad! This is boooorrrrriiiinnnnngggg!" Carl was insistent on dragging his words out as long as possible.

The extended verbiage went on for a while. Rick ignored it and kept handing Carl boxes. Carl would disappear out of the van for a while, only to reappear with more super-long words of criticism. Rick noticed that it wasn't taking Carl long enough to deliver the boxes to their second floor apartment. He assumed Carl was leaving them on the porch or right inside the door of the complex. Rick gathered a heavy lounger as an excuse to leave the van. Carl was quick to get in his way. Rick put the lounger down and glanced outside the truck. The boxes were in a lazy stack on the street. Probably worse than being on the porch or right inside the door.

Rick argued with Carl for a good twenty minutes about moving the boxes. Carl whined and pouted and stomped his feet and kicked the boxes down. He was determined to make Rick mad enough to scream at him. Rick refused the temptation and stood his ground until Carl half-heartedly picked up a small box and carried it inside the apartment. Rick was certain Carl would hide the box somewhere in the building out of spite. He hoped it didn't contain anything important because he'd probably never see it, again.

When he came back, Carl was in silent mode. He refused to take more boxes inside and he wasn't about to help with the heavy stuff. Rick considered calling somebody to help him. He still had Shane's cell number. They hadn't talked since almost a year ago, but Rick thought Shane would be the one to say, _"Congrats for comin' down, man! I'll help you set up!"_

Carl sat longways on the stack of boxes by the van. He almost fell over twice. Rick could hear Carl groaning and growling like a dying man from time to time to get his attention. The boxes Carl were sitting on would probably be crushed by the time Carl was finished. Rick glanced out once to make sure none of the boxes were marked fragile. Carl thought it was a sign Rick was responding and he tried even harder to make his disdain known.

Rick was bent over some boxes trying to ignore his son when he heard someone walk out onto the street. He turned his head to one-side while still leaning over and he managed to catch sight of the upside-down frame of a thin biker getting onto a motorcycle. The biker had long dark hair that fell around his face and his body actually reminded Rick of a skateboarder type rather than a motor-rider.

"I'm Carl," Rick heard his son tell the biker.

The biker nodded back at Carl with a kinder expression than Rick anticipated. He had met his share of motorcycle lovers and they were usually hardened dudes who barely gave kids who weren't their own a second glace. The biker stepped out into the street and took off in a blaze of booming engine noise. Rick stood up straight and took another glance outside the van. He wasn't completely sure the biker had come from the apartments.

Carl almost immediately jumped into the van and started grabbing boxes like his life depended on it. His son's sudden interest in getting the job done made Rick certain that the biker was actually from the apartments. Rick made a long sigh and rolled his eyes. He knew Carl would never leave that man alone.

:-:

* * *

><p>Carl was running up and down the stairs delivering boxes to their new apartment. Rick was waiting for the inevitable trip-and-fall, but Carl was determined to defy gravity. They were over halfway done when Rick finally started to get tired. He sat down on the top step just a few yards from their new place while Carl continued to breeze past him in a flurry of footfalls and sour smelling teen sweat.<p>

During a moment when Carl was still outside and the complex was quiet, Rick closed his eyes to ponder the silence. He heard a door open behind him and a softer presence entered the hallway. He opened his eyes and turned to face them, expecting it to be a resident coming out to tell him his son was being too loud.

Instead, he was met with a _**Sunrise**_.

At least, that's what she looked like to him. A beautiful blonde with lagoon-blue eyes as wide as the headlights on a '57 Chevy _Bel_ _Air_. She was wearing a tank top and short blue jeans like most modern young people wore, but her cowgirl boots and vintage pearl earrings told him she was a country girl at heart.

"Need some help?" she asked timidly, running her hand over the back of her neck like she expected him to give her some flat-out _hell_ _no_ response.

"My son's picked up most of the work," Rick pointed down the stairs at the front door.

As if on cue, Carl burst through the door and rushed up the stairs. He caught sight of Beth and stumbled on the last two steps, dropping a box marked KITCHEN on the thinly carpeted concrete floor. The box made a loud crashing sound that echoed throughout the building. _Sunrise_ put her hands over her ears and made a face. Carl blushed ten shades of red with embarrassment.

"I'm Rick Grimes, and this is Carl," Rick stood up to greet her and spare his son an awkward silence.

"I'm Beth Greene. I live right next door," she pointed back to her apartment with her thumb.

She shook Rick's hand. Her hand felt warm. He had an instant attraction to her despite their obvious age difference. He tried to brush off his feelings as loneliness after not having the company of a woman in so long. He still found himself asking her, "You live alone?"

He couldn't help it.

_Sunrise_ shook her head and replied, "No, sir, I live with Daryl Dixon. He just left a few minutes ago. We both work evenings and night shifts."

Rick's brow furrowed as he wondered if Daryl were the biker he'd seen. Sure enough, Carl's changing teenage voice unintentionally shrieked, "He's got a motorcycle!"

Beth giggled and nodded her head. Carl covered his mouth and turned another ten shades of red. Rick kept his attention on _Sunrise_ and she added like he had asked, "It's my day off."

Carl suddenly whirled around like he had been called by name and he took off down the stairs. Rick thought he was probably going to hide out in the van for a while. He'd be hearing about _this_ humiliation for months. At the moment, he didn't really care.

"You work nearby?" Rick asked thickly.

_Sunrise_ went from rising to setting in a split second. Rick realized that he may have been overstepping some sort of bounds. He immediately changed the subject, "I was a deputy back home. I just retired."

The sun came back, again.

"You're a real hero! I don't know many men who can go out an' stop crimes an' step in the way o' bullets with no fear! I know some people don't like lawmen but I'm sure grateful they're around when you need 'em..."

She drifted off. Sunrise faded slightly as she remembered something. She looked sad, like the last time she had been up close with the police was during a tragedy. She shook the memory away and wiped all signs of tears from her natural look. She seemed a little sweeter somehow as she went for the box Carl had dropped earlier and she scooped it up in her slender arms.

"I'd really like to help. I've got nothin' else to do," she said.

She seemed in need of a distraction. Rick was happy to provide it.

"Sure," he opened the door to his apartment and led her inside.

:-:

* * *

><p>Rick didn't think he really needed the help, but after <em>Sunrise<em> came along, he realized how easily everything became.

Carl kept making a fool of himself the rest of the evening. He crashed sometime around eleven on the love seat Rick and Beth had brought in. Rick never saw Carol, again. He also wondered when Daryl would be back. He wanted to meet the man _Sunrise _spoke so highly of.

She didn't call him a boyfriend. Rick was aware that the younger generation didn't always label their relationships and he decided against showing an interest in _Sunrise_ until he had gathered all the facts. She seemed sweet, honest and her twang reminded him of his childhood. She smelled like cinnamon and her giggle tugged at his heartstrings.

Her body was exactly his type. He did his best not to stare at her when she bent over or gathered things against her chest, but he couldn't help spying those apple-shaped breasts every time she held something close to them or brushed them off after smudging her tank with grime and dust.

They got everything moved in after midnight. Sunrise offered to stay with Carl while Rick took the van back to avoid paying a fee to keep it another day. He had to take the bus back to the apartment complex. It took a few hours. He wondered if Sunrise would still be waiting for him when he returned.

Rick stopped at a grocery store on his way back. He picked up doughnuts and coffee and an orange juice for Carl. He quietly made his way up the stairs to his apartment and opened the door. He saw _Sunrise_ looking refreshed like she had taken a break before his return. She was stacking the KITCHEN boxes in their designated area. She turned to face him and smiled.

It made him feel _welcome_.

He handed her the coffee. She drank it and chowed down on the doughnuts like it was her idea of a perfect breakfast. Another great quality in Rick's book: A girl who wasn't afraid to ingest some good ole' fashioned processed sugar. She asked about Rick's time as a deputy. He told her a few of his most dramatic stories. She watched him all the while like he was the most interesting man in the world.

Carl rose up at some point and wandered like an aimless zombie to get some doughnuts. He shoved three into his mouth in less than a minute and sucked down his orange juice. He must've forgotten Beth was there because he was about to collapse again when he caught sight of her and he instantly turned into a _**well-rested-early-riser**_, two things Rick knew Carl was anything but.

"Hi, Beth! You're still here?" Carl burst out a little too joyfully.

She glanced uneasily at Rick. She seemed to interpret Carl's words as a hint that she had hung around too long. Carl tried his damnedest to correct himself, "I mean that, I mean...it's fine that you're still here, I just...I'm surprised because it's late an' all...or early, I guess...I don't..."

Carl bailed on words and made a quick wave before disappearing down the hall. He barricaded himself in the bathroom and Rick heard the shower running. Maybe Carl'd take more showers now that _Sunrise_ was around.

She told him about her time on a farm. She talked a little bit about her mother dying of breast cancer when Rick asked what happened. He wished he hadn't. She faded for a while, again.

"I really should go. Daryl'll be home soon," _Sunrise_ said.

It felt like too soon. Rick got up and followed her out to the hallway. Carl was still somewhere in the apartment shoving boxes into his room. He hadn't reappeared since his latest humiliation.

Rick walked her to her door like an escort. He flushed sheepishly when he realized how juvenile he probably looked. _Sunrise_ put one hand on the knob but didn't turn it. She looked up at him and he imagined her saying the words,_ "Why don't you come on inside with me?"_

He wanted to spend more time with her. He _**ached**_ for it.

"I wanna tell you somethin'," she said seriously.

His longing crashed and burned against the brick wall of reality. Rick resorted back to cop mode to keep his feelings at bay. Maybe she'd noticed him watching her and she was going to tell him to back off. Maybe she was going to tell him to keep his distance because she was involved in something illegal. If that were true, he'd blame _the biker._

"I'm a stripper. That's what I do," she confessed.

_Cowgirl_ _Sunrise_ was lost from his mind. She was replaced by a naked version swinging a pole in front of men who didn't deserve her. Rick didn't know quite how to react. He had met plenty of strippers and prostitutes and all manner of the underground while on-duty. He knew that most of them were good people who made poor decisions or they were trying to hide from something or they had succumbed to their addictions. He wondered which type she was.

"Look, you can go an' call your friends to arrest me or somethin', but I ain't gonna lie about what I do to you or nobody else," she meant it to sound like a conviction, but it came out sounding more like a swan song.

"I'll be honest, I don't know what to say," Rick shook his head and added, "But I won't be calling anybody to arrest you for that."

She acted relieved to hear it, like she was certain he would.

"You mind if I come an' see you, sometime?" he asked.

She blinked with surprise. Rick hadn't meant to come out sounding like some hound dog. He clarified, "I mean, if you need some help, or if anyone's botherin' you, I can stop by and...well, put the fear of God in him."

_Sunrise_ giggled and asked, "You mean tell him you're a cop and he's about to get his ass thrown in jail?"

Rick chuckled, surprised by her choice of words. _Sunrise_ laughed even louder. He wanted to _**kiss**_ her.

They were interrupted when Carl threw open the door and yelled into the hallway, "Daaaaaaaad! I can't find my PS4!"

Frustrated by his son's rudeness, Rick shot back dryly, "I gave it to charity along with everything else you have to plug into a car or the wall."

Carl's mouth dropped open in shock. _Sunrise_ put her hand over her face to hide her intense laughter. For the first time in two years, Rick felt a sense of triumph.

It was short-lived. Daryl arrived seconds later, and Rick was given the distinct impression that _Sunrise_ was already _**claimed**_. No matter how badly he wanted it, Rick would never be between those slender legs.

:-:

* * *

><p>Carl's attitude got much worse after he was denied Daryl's fresh pancakes. Rick walked Carl to a diner for lunch and Carl found a hundred and forty-three reasons why it sucked. That number was exact. Rick was keeping count.<p>

Rick had heard Beth arguing with Daryl in the hallway shortly after they parted ways. It didn't sound too heated and he couldn't hear more through the wall besides the slamming of a door. Rick listened again when he and Carl came back after lunch. He didn't hear anything more.

Carl was still loudly unpacking in his room. Rick wondered if Daryl would stop by to complain since he had come home from the night shift and he was probably trying to sleep. Beth was probably sleeping, as well. Rick told Carl to keep it down. He got _louder_.

No one came by to complain. Day turned to night and Rick heard the shuffling of footsteps next door. He heard a couple in the hallway and he assumed Beth and Daryl were leaving for work. He was compelled to come out and say good-bye. He reminded himself that this was the city and the people here didn't expect him to greet them or bid them _adieu_ every single time. It felt ungentlemanly to pretend he didn't hear them.

He hooked up the TV and watched it until the late hour. Carl had locked the door to his room and refused to come out. They had taken some leftovers home from the diner and Carl was probably munching out of a styrofoam stash.

Rick went to his own room and set up a mattress on the floor. He meant to put sheets on it but he couldn't stop thinking about Beth. He knew what it would do to him but he lay down and covered his eyes with his hand. He let himself drift off into his own imagination.

_He saw himself kissing Beth in the hallway. He heard her respond with a light moan of pleasure. He saw her take him by the wrist as she led him inside her own apartment. She closed the door and took him straight to her room._

He thought about taking off her clothes. _They were dirty from all the work she did helping him unpack. He imagined her hesitating and saying something like, "Maybe I should shower, first."_

"_I don't mind," would be his answer. _He really wouldn't.

The fantasy playing out in his own mind made him hard. He spit into his hand and reached down to clutch himself. He imagined the hand belonged to _Beth_. He thought about her _straddling him in bed_. He could feel her invisible _body trembling on top of him_. He liked to think that she _hadn't been with many men_. He wanted to think that she was _surprised by his length._

He saw her as a sweetheart, even in the throes of passion. _She'd grasp his shoulders and weave her fingers through his short dark hair and graze her fingernails along his beard like she couldn't hold on. She'd moan and whimper and make him put his hand over her mouth so Carl didn't overhear them. She'd enjoy the feeling of having her breasts squeezed. She'd buck a little when he pressed his fingers against her hips. She'd call out his name in a fit of frustration and wanting when he'd guide her off of him just long enough to roll her on her back so he could take over._

"_Please, please," she'd beg him to continue._

_He'd wait until she could hardly stand it, anymore. She'd be kicking her feet against his calves and lifting her hips to urge him back in. He'd taste a finger and tease her with it a while. She'd enjoy it, but not as much as she enjoyed his __**cock**__._

The word itself brought him closer to climax. When he imagined Beth _saying the word from underneath him_, he found himself on the edge.

He imagined what she would look like when he gave her orgasm. He didn't need to imagine the sound. _The painful ecstasy registering on her beautiful sunrise face _was enough to drive him over.

Rick came harder than he had in a long time. He hadn't realized how much he needed it until he was coming out of it, stretching his sore legs and finding himself in a state of _ease_.

"Dad?" Carl asked from the other side of the door.

Rick sat up straight and replied, "Yeah?"

"...I know what you're doing in there," Carl stated.

Rick felt like he was back in high school. He had no idea he was even making any sound. He cleared his throat and replied somberly, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Dad," Carl followed up on his moment of maturity with a quick-witted comeback, "You _soooo_ need to get laid."

Rick was feeling too good to be upset by the remark. He replied with his own sense of dry humor, "I'll get right on that."

"Ew," Carl groaned, and Rick could hear his loud footfalls storming back to his own room.


	6. Want You to Want Me

**Six: Want You to Want Me  
><strong>

Daryl slept in his own room. He kept the door open in case Beth started sleepwalking. She never left her room.

He decided not to make pancakes this time. Beth was so angry that he wouldn't make them for Carl and Rick and he didn't want to make things worse. He made them some coffee, instead. Beth took a seat at the kitchen table and drank in silence while she jotted something down on a notepad. Daryl pondered her for a while.

"You writin' a song?" he asked just to hear her voice, again.

She smiled like she was pleased that he noticed. She tapped the notepad with her pencil and replied, "I wanna ask Gareth if I can sing it, tonight."

"I don' think he'd have no problem with tha'," Daryl surmised.

Beth made a slight frown and asked, "You don't think it's stupid? I mean, I know I ain't on Broadway, but...I just thought it'd be nice to sing somethin' softer at the end o' my shift, you know? That way the guys don't get so riled up like they do, now."

Daryl nodded and Beth went on, "I'd like to do somethin' different. Like, have the stage be dark as night, and then have a light shine on me all o' the sudden like I appeared from nowhere, like...like an _angel_."

The image in his mind made Daryl warm inside. Beth added more quietly, "I'd like to sing in the nude, you know? But not tasteless, just...like, no makeup and my hair down and...real natural."

Daryl didn't quite like the idea of Beth being admired more for her body than for her voice, but he knew that it was part of her job. Daryl was also never one to tell a woman what to do.

"You think I could do it?" Beth asked.

Daryl nodded without hesitation. Beth's cheeks flushed like she was almost embarrassed by his confidence in her ideas. He asked softly, "Mind if I come an' watch?"

Beth blinked with surprise and replied, "I thought you didn't like my singin'!"

Daryl made a wry smile and teased, "Oh, I was jus' comin' for the nudie part."

Beth laughed out loud. Daryl liked her best when she was feeling good. He wanted _more of this_.

:-:

* * *

><p>Connor knew that his best friend, Daryl Dixon, was very much in love.<p>

Daryl wasn't completely aware of it, yet. While they both worked at the slaughterhouse, Connor used conversation to pass the time. Daryl was one of the least talkative people he'd ever met. After probing for a while to find some common ground, Connor discovered that all he had to do to get Daryl to speak was ask about Beth.

He liked to talk about her. She seemed to pique Daryl's interest and she kept him on his toes. She sounded like the perfect girl for him, but Connor understood that Daryl was struggling to take the relationship to another level.

From what Daryl had mentioned about his upbringing, Connor had pieced together that Dixon had never known _**love**_ without _**pain**_. Beth represented the innocence he lost a long time ago. Being with her meant that Daryl would have to face some of his own issues. Sometimes that was enough to scare a man off.

After Daryl had told him about the kiss, Connor had faith that things would work out, but when Daryl arrived the next night on a mission to finish up early, Connor wondered if something had gone terribly wrong.

"You wanna tell me why yer headin' outta here saw fast?" Connor asked when their shift was over and Daryl was practically racing to get to his bike.

"Beth's singin' at the club. Told her I'd be there," Daryl answered.

Connor nodded that he understood. He didn't let it show that he was really glad to hear Daryl and Beth still had potential.

"You wanna come along?" Daryl asked almost as an afterthought.

Connor scoffed and replied, "Are you off yer kilt? Don't cha know lassies can't refuse me? It'd be downright cruel when Lady Beth falls hard an' fast fur me an' I haveta punch ya in the gob."

Daryl rolled his eyes. Connor took it as a challenge.

"Don' believe me? Yew'll see, lad! Yer sweet Bethy'll be all over me by night's end!"

Connor mounted his own bike. Daryl took off first and left him in a cloud of dust. Connor laughed and chased him down the road. The club wasn't too far away. Connor continued to prod Daryl all the way into the club. Daryl immediately headed to a booth on the far side where he wouldn't be well seen but he could observe the rest of the lounge with ease. Connor put a hand on Daryl's shoulder and redirected him front and center to the table just a few feet from the stage.

There were already some guys sitting at the table. Connor shouted random things at them in Gaelic, a language that sounded like speaking in tongues to a bunch of Southern half-wits. They moved aside and Connor made sure that Daryl sat directly in view of the microphone where Beth would be singing.

Daryl slumped in his seat and folded his arms. The stage was dark and there was no sign of Beth. The lounge had filled with dozens of men making as much noise as they could to get the show started. The majority of them were right behind Daryl and Connor and Daryl kept glancing back over his shoulder like he was under attack.

Connor searched for some kind of distraction. He saw a waitress at the bar and waved her over. She was a small framed Latina with a strong set of curves and an even stronger personality that followed her when she walked. She smiled when she caught sight of Daryl and she stayed friendly as she asked, "You boys want anything to drink?"

"Ya got warm beer, darlin'?" Connor asked while wearing a charming grin.

She nodded liked she knew exactly what brand he'd like. Connor was _impressed_.

"Mmm...jus' beer," Daryl mumbled.

She nodded and left. When she returned with their drinks, Connor was satisfied by her brand choice. She handed Daryl a _Miller_ and said, "Beth'll be glad you're here."

"Yew knaw this sourpuss?" Connor asked her, motioning at Daryl with his chin.

Daryl ignored him. She told Connor with a chuckle, "Name's Rosita. Beth and I are good friends."

He took her hand and kissed it. She chuckled, again. Her accent didn't sound Georgian but it still had enough twang to be from the South.

"I'm Texan," she answered like she had read his mind.

"I'm Irish," he replied with a wink.

"I noticed," she took her hand back.

Connor glanced at Daryl. He looked like he was going to shoot out of his seat at any second. Rosita started talking to ease the tension, "Beth's really excited about the song she wrote."

"Gareth gave the okay?" Daryl asked like he thought he'd have to step in to make it happen.

Rosita nodded and replied, "She sang a little backstage. We all loved it except Lori, but those two butt heads all the time so what the hell."

Daryl opened his mouth to argue something but he stopped short. Connor glanced at the stage just as a spotlight turned on and Beth appeared in the center as if she'd been there the whole time. She was wearing a black lace bra that was see-through in the spotlight. She was also wearing black lace panties with straps that sank down to a pair of black pantyhose like a 19th Century gettup. She appeared clothed and nude at the same time. She wore no heels. Her hair as put up but she fashioned it to come down around her shoulders so she'd look more natural. She only wore eyeliner. She was _raw_ and _beautiful_. The men in the lounge cheered.

"Thank you," Beth giggled, then her eyes fell on Daryl.

Her green irises twinkled with tears. She was overwhelmed by his presence. Connor could see it as well as _feel_ it.

"Beth? You ready?" came a voice from stage left.

Connor hadn't realized until that moment that there was also a dark-skinned woman on the stage. She was sitting at a piano mostly shrouded in darkness. Beth nodded to the woman and said, "Go ahead, Sasha."

The men quieted down. The pianist played a soft melody. Beth glanced around and smiled. Her focus went back to Daryl.

_I put your picture_

_in my windowsill_

_The sun shines on you_

_and I remember still_

_Oh, how much do I mean to you?_

_I hope it's as much as you mean to me_

_When I'm lookin' out that window_

_I feel you holdin' on to me_

Daryl had told Connor a lot about Beth. He knew how much Daryl loved her. He was aware that Beth had feelings for Daryl, too, but it wasn't entirely clear how strong they were until now.

The song was about _**Daryl**_. She was singing it to him like he was the only man in the room.

When she finished, the tenderness between her and Daryl was interrupted by the cheers of the several dozen men they had momentarily forgotten about. Beth bowed a few times and smiled broadly. Rosita clapped for Beth. Connor whistled loudly. Beth giggled and waved at him. Connor closed his eyes and said, "Ah, what a beauty! And those Irish-green eyes...though I'd prefer her hair red as bonfire."

"I'm a sucker for redheads, too," Rosita commented.

Connor opened his eyes and stared at her. She shot him a flirtatious smile and left to go back to the bar. He knew he would be pursuing her before he left this place.

He turned his attention to Daryl. Connor expected some sort of peace in his friend after Beth's heartfelt song. There was only a strange expression on Dixon's face. Connor didn't know what it meant.

:-:

* * *

><p>Daryl knew the song was about him. He didn't have time to process what that meant.<p>

Beth was waving to the men behind him when her expression changed from happiness to terror. It was merely a second or two before she went back to showing happiness, again. No one picked up on the change.

But Daryl noticed.

She was frightened by someone in the audience. Daryl's gut told him it was serious. He decided not to turn around just yet so he didn't appear too obvious. He kept his gaze on Beth until she left the stage. He watched Sasha stand up from the piano bench. Sasha took her time stepping carefully around the piano before she made her exit. Some of the men were still calling for Beth to come back. Daryl took the opportunity to turn around.

He only needed a few seconds to find the problem. He spotted a man sitting at the bar away from everyone else. He was wearing military combat boots and commando jeans. His faded brown t-shirt showcased his physical strength.

The man knew he was being watched almost immediately. He locked eyes with Daryl. Though they had never met, before, the man cocked his head to one-side as if trying to determine a factor of familiarity.

He must know _Merle_.

"Oi," Connor whispered.

Daryl turned to look at Connor. When he looked back, the man at the bar was gone.

"Trouble?" Connor asked.

"Yup," Daryl answered.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I actually managed to get sick once again! I figured out that some of the problem is this new herbal remedy I've been taking that is apparently not agreeing with me. I've thrown it out, though I must admit I've been turning out some great chapters while being ill.<p>

I also wanted to mention that I wrote the song Beth sings in this chapter. I used to write songs a lot when I was a teenager. I love to sing but not I'm terrified when I get in front of an audience, so I'll just channel my voice into my stories and continue singing my heart out to my empty house like any normal person with irrational fears!

On a more somber note, I was recording the mid-season finale while working on Chapter 5. I posted it just after the episode ended and I watched it later that night. *Spoiler alert* I cried my eyes out when Beth died. I really loved her character and I thought they could've done a lot more with her. I wanted to tell fans of this story that I do plan on continuing it despite what happened on the show. Since my story is an alternate universe, it's a bit easier to work around, though I am disappointed that there will be no future episodes of Beth and Daryl encounters for inspiration.

I was also going to leave a note at the end of Chapter 5, but I wanted to read the reviews and gauge reactions about the end of the chapter before saying anything. Although I personally like the idea of Beth and Rick as a pair and I am planning to write a story about them sometime in the future, this story is a Bethyl romance and Chapters 4-5 were meant to give readers an idea of how different characters perceive themselves and their relationships with each other. For example, Rick is desperately lonely and though he is trying to convince himself that his relationship with Beth is platonic (he even goes so far as to tell himself he'll never have her), he ends up fantasizing about her. In the same respect, Daryl senses what Rick is trying to deny and it angers him, yet Daryl is following a similar path by remaining unaware of the fact that he's in love with Beth. Sound confusing? I'm a behavioral science major. I tend to go on for far too long when rambling about layers of human nature and I forget that no one wants to hear it!

I also wanted to add that I'm not trying to do some Twilight/Vampire Diaries love triangle thing where the guys are utterly in love with the girl and she's just kind of oblivious to what's going on or she doesn't care about the fact that they want to kill each other over her (I'm not trying to hate on the authors that did write these series'. I live in a city where women name their babies Edward or Jacob and the whole idea of Damon and human Elena strikes me as a wonderfully hot mess. I'd just rather not follow the path that's already been done simply because it's popular. I generally like to follow unique paths that are refreshing to readers). I want to represent Beth as a strong character in her own right. She's not aware of Rick's intentions at the moment but her focus is really on Daryl. She's not confused about who she wants. She is just worried that Daryl will decided to push her away at a moment's notice because he has a history of never getting close to people.

Hope that clears up some confusion! If any of you have other questions, you can always put them in your review. I will answer what I can (without spoiling my story's plans, of course) in the author's notes at next chapter's end.

Oh, and I totally noticed one of my subscribers has an avatar with Daryl in a Sons of Anarchy vest! I LOVE SAMCRO! I've always thought Daryl would make a great addition to the series and Chibs would be like a father figure to him. Tommy Flanagan just looks like he would be a father figure to Norman Reedus in real life! It's the whole reason I bought _Hero Wanted_, the only movie Norman has done with Tommy. Sadly, they didn't have a lot of one-on-one scenes together. I realize that Norman was mean to be on Walking Dead, but I can't help wondering what could've been had he landed a role on SoA!


	7. Cover Me

**Seven: Cover Me  
><strong>

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you love me?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Do you like seein' my body?"

"Mmmm."

Beth rolled over in bed so she could face him. A few rays from the sun were peeking through the window from behind the room darkening curtains. She could just make out Daryl's face. He was chewing his lower lip and he was pondering her like they were the only two people in all the world.

"Do you think about makin' love to me?"

He blinked slowly but didn't answer her.

"Do you just wanna fuck me, instead?"

He shook his head and stated strongly, "No."

"It don't have to mean nothin' if you don't want it to," she hated that it sounded so desperate out loud.

"Ain't how it should be," Daryl said.

Beth gazed at him for a short while in silence so she could muster up the courage to ask, "Is there somethin' I can do? Somethin' you like? To turn you on?"

Daryl's brow furrowed in confusion like he had never even considered personal preferences.

"I mean, I dunno what you like, but...if you wanna tie me up or somethin', I mean, if that'll help...I trust you."

Daryl's eyes widened with a mix of shock and horror. It seemed the idea hadn't crossed his mind. He shook his head and argued, "I don' wanna hurt ya none."

"Well, there are ways you can...restrain somebody without really hurtin' 'em. It's like, a game, or somethin'."

"I don' see how tyin' you up would be fun," Daryl sounded disturbed by the very idea.

Beth considered another idea that was a little less shocking, "I could dress up. You like somethin' in particular? I could use one o' my dresses from the club or we could stop by the costume shop."

Daryl's concern had lessened a bit but he still seemed uneasy by all the things one could use as a sexual subject. His eyes shifted in their sockets while his mind came up with dozens of visuals that caused his face to twist with fear, surprise, confusion and misunderstanding. It became too overwhelming and he abandoned them all, going back to a neutral expression as he asked thickly, "Whadda you like?"

Beth pursed her lips together. She'd had a few flings but Jimmy was the only one who'd been a real boyfriend to her. They dated in high school and he was the typical seventeen-year-old with raging hormones. They'd make out for fifteen seconds, he'd beg to stick it in, claiming his balls would fall off if he didn't, and he'd last all of about a bull ride at eight seconds. She did have to give him credit for trying, afterwards. He'd finger her or use the tiny vibrator her friends bought her as a Christmas gag so she wasn't completely left out. Beth had no idea until years later that guys could last longer than a minute and girls did have the ability to orgasm _during_ the act.

"I dunno, I guess I like bein' kissed," Beth surmised.

She felt a little embarrassed that she couldn't come up with something more amazing to do. Daryl sighed like he was grateful she had kept it simple and he leaned in to press his lips to her own.

He tasted like a cigarette wrapper. It reminded Beth of when she was a little girl and she used to pick dandelions on the front lawn at the farm. One time, she decided she wanted to know if the dandy-yellows tasted as good as they smelled. She put one in her mouth and chewed. It wasn't totally unpleasant, but definitely nothing like the _aroma_.

She felt Daryl sit up so he could kiss her, better. He placed his left hand on her hip and she made a small hum to let him know that she liked it. They kissed for a good while before Daryl removed his hand from her hip and Beth felt butterflies in her stomach as she anticipated what he might do, next.

Daryl glided his fingers through her blond hair and brushed it around her head as a makeshift halo. She didn't know exactly why he was doing it and he almost seemed more focused on the halo effect than he was on kissing her. When he deemed it finished, he took a handful of hair and twisted it around his fist. He pulled just strongly enough to make Beth tilt her head back so he could kiss along her jawline.

He was only slightly restricting her and he seemed to know just how to expose her throat without making the angle too uncomfortable. Beth clasped her hand around his fist and she liked feeling her soft tangles of hair tightened between his fingers. She placed her other hand loosely against his shoulder. He was too busy kissing down her neck to notice. Beth dared to reach her hand around the back of his neck so she could grasp a bit of his hair. He tensed up. She loosened her grip and brushed her fingernails along his scalp. He went back to kissing her.

Daryl let go of her hair and took hold of the straps of her tank top. Beth thought he was going to take it off but instead he moved the straps halfway down her arms. Only the tops of her breasts were exposed and they plumped out like in a renaissance dress. Daryl grunted like seeing the plump was better than seeing the whole thing and he left a flurry of kisses across her chest.

Beth was quickly overwhelmed by such constant attention. She hadn't been with a man in almost two years and she had forgotten how good it felt to be touched. The words_ tender lover_ came to mind. It sounded horribly lame and Beth swore to herself she would never utter the words out loud to describe Daryl, but they were as true as could be.

She _wanted_ this. She _**needed**_ this. She was ready but Daryl hadn't even begun to remove his clothes, let alone hers, and Beth was starting to get anxious for more. She reached up and grabbed his t-shirt so she could get it over his head. All the work at the slaughterhouse had given his arms an impressive bulk and Beth was excited to see what wonders it had done for the rest of his body.

In the heat of the moment, Beth had forgotten what Daryl Dixon was like. This was a man who treated hugging like it was some sort of barbaric ritual. The same man who assessed every exit before entering a room full of people. Once she had even witnessed him dive out of the way to avoid a tailor asking to take his measurements.

Her sudden movements startled him and he shifted into survival mode. He shot up and arched his back like a cat to get away from her grasp. He instinctively took her wrists and pinned them down against the bed. His eyes were like stone as he stared at her so intensely that she was forced to look away.

The little bit of sunlight in the room was enough for Beth to see exactly why Daryl reacted the way he did. His t-shirt had mostly fallen back down, but she could still see an exposed area of skin on his left side. His lower ribs, around his hip bone and along one side of his abs.

There were scars. Dozens of them. All shapes and sizes. Some were long and tangled and bizarre like a ribbon dance etched in his skin. Others were small and white and perfect like the self-made ones Beth had seen on a dancer at the club who used to take scissors to her inner thighs.

Some resembled cigarette burns. Some looked more like gashes or fighting injuries. There were even a few freckles that made the damage appear almost natural. His body had healed and continued to renew itself despite what had been done to him. It was frightening. It was sad. It was horrifying. It was _**unthinkable**_.

Beth looked up to meet Daryl's gaze. He was mad. Stark ravin' mad.

"Don't you pity me, Greene!" he shouted, his gravel voice stained with acid.

He let go of her and climbed out of bed. Beth was almost in tears as she sat up and tried to stop him, "Daryl, wait!"

He didn't even look back at her. He stormed out the door and slammed it behind him.

:-:

* * *

><p>She wanted to tell him that she didn't pity him. She wanted to tell him that she didn't think his scars were ugly and she still loved him all the same. She wanted to tell him to <em>come back to me.<em>

Beth sat there and waited for what felt like hours. She was certain Daryl would storm back in to chew her out or tell her to go fuck herself or do something to vent his anger, but he never showed up. She felt the need to cry, but she refused to shed any tears. She didn't want Daryl to walk in and see her crying. He'd think she really was pitying him and he'd probably never forgive her.

When she couldn't stand the silence any longer, Beth slowly got out of bed and went to her closet. She dressed herself in a pair of jean shorts. Her wrists were still sore from where Daryl had grabbed them. She put on a white long sleeved top to conceal herself, better. Beth was reminded of the battered wife named Carol who lived downstairs. Carol was always wearing layers of clothes to hide her bruises.

But Beth knew Daryl wasn't like that. This wasn't the start of a pattern where he'd hurt her and beg forgiveness later with a dozen roses and a box of chocolates. He wouldn't be calling out for her on his knees sobbing like a child for all to see like Carol's husband Ed did. Daryl was nothing like Ed and Beth was so glad for that.

She covered herself up the best she could and put on an old pair of sneakers. She wanted to feel as comfortable as possible. Beth went to her door and opened it slowly. She peeked out into the hallway to see if Daryl was around.

The door to his room was closed. She wandered out to the kitchen, but he wasn't there, either. Beth left the apartment and quietly closed the door. She stood out in the hallway for a minute to see if Daryl would come after her. She didn't hear anything.

Beth walked to the top of the stairwell. She could see the sun shining through the front door of the apartment complex. It looked like a nice day, outside. She considered taking a long walk to clear her mind. She hadn't slept yet at all and she was tired, but she didn't want to go back to her room.

She went to the Grimes' apartment and knocked. She hoped they were awake. There was a long silence and Beth thought the better of knocking twice. She turned away and started for the stairs, again.

"Beth?" Rick asked from his door.

She turned around to face him. He seemed surprised to see her, but he was dressed in old jeans and a stained t-shirt and he looked like he had been awake and unpacking before she knocked. She almost burst into tears when she saw him.

"You need some help?" she asked so as not to appear unreasonable.

"Sure," Rick held the door open to let her inside.

"Is Carl here?" Beth asked when she wandered past him.

"No, he's uh...today was his first day. I sent him on to school. Should be back around four."

Beth nodded but she wasn't really listening. Rick pointed to some boxes in the kitchen and mentioned, "I could use a good eye for sorting this stuff. My wife, she-"

He cleared his throat and changed his tune, "My _ex_-wife...the kitchen stuff was mostly hers. Honestly, I dunno what most of this shit is."

He leaned over a box to check inside and gave Beth a quick glance. He put his hands on his hips and mumbled, "Pardon my French."

"It's okay, I know what _shit_ looks like," Beth smiled.

Rick nodded and quickly went back to work on the TV set in the main area. Beth called to him while she sorted through an open box, "Your ex-wife, was she Carl's momma?"

"Yeah. Her name was Lori," Rick replied.

Beth felt a sickness deep down in her belly. The only Lori she had ever met was the cruel bitch that she worked with at Club Teramin. Beth watched Rick work a while until the nausea subsided. She was sure the Lori she knew couldn't possibly be Rick's ex-wife. Rick was a sweet guy. His son was an angsty teen but there wasn't a bad bone in Carl's body. No way could he be the product of a _Medusa_.

"I know a Lori, but she ain't nice at all," Beth mentioned.

Rick sat up to face her and asked curiously, "What does yours look like?"

"Old. Disgusting. A _**haggard**_ sea wench," Beth retorted while she stacked some plates on the counter.

Rick laughed and said, "Sounds lovely."

Beth giggled despite herself. Rick went back to working on the TV and conversation was lost.

:-:

* * *

><p>The silence after Carl had left that morning was starting to weigh on Rick. His sense of all-consuming loneliness returned and he was doing his best to keep busy and take his mind off it. When there came a knock at the door, Rick thought he had imagined it. He almost didn't check, but he was glad he did.<p>

Beth looked solemn and lost. She was as lonely as he felt when she came in to help him. Rick was grateful for the company. He also knew the kitchen needed a woman's touch. It was like a foreign language trying to figure out what to use and what to put away. Rick had mostly just thrown everything from the kitchen into boxes without even looking at them. As far as he was concerned, cups and plates and some silverware were plenty. He liked his morning coffee, but he still didn't know how to use the fucking fancy machine Lori had bought for herself and then left behind.

He was amazed to see how much progress Beth had made once he finished hooking up the TV. She had managed to not only set up Lori's coffee maker, but Beth showed Rick exactly how to make the simple brew he liked most in no time at all. She had also found the microwave and toaster, two things that Carl would be overjoyed to use for his many snacking needs.

"You know how to do the channel programming? I used to know but these newfangled remotes they...well, they make me feel old and useless," Rick handed Beth the satellite box.

She took out the remote and went to the love seat. Rick followed and sat down next to her. He watched her while she focused on programming the remote. She was wearing a long sleeved shirt that was unseasonably warm for a midday in Georgia. The outside temp was at least a hundred degrees, and the air conditioning in the apartment was only sub-par, making it at least eighty-five inside. Rick chalked it up to the notion that perhaps Beth was one of those girls who always got cold. His police training told him it was something else, but he ignored it. _Prying might scare her off._

Beth got the channels to work and she showed Rick how to bring up the guide. He saw that the game was on. He was about to change to it when he glanced at Beth and thought the better of it.

"Is _Say Yes to the Dress _on? You know, the Atlanta one?" Beth asked excitedly.

Rick checked the guide. Sure enough, the show was on. He switched to it and realized in about thirty seconds that it was nothing more than a so-called _unscripted_ dramedy series where pretty girls dress up for their respective weddings while their entourage criticizes the heck out of them before magically coming to terms on a final pick. Rick was bored as hell, but watching Beth's reactions to it all gave him reason to tolerate it.

She sat forward through the first two episodes but sleep got the better of her and she laid down for the third. Rick was actually starting to get more into the program the more episodes he watched and it took him a while to notice Beth had fallen asleep. He switched to the game but he kept a close eye on Beth so he could change it back in case she woke up. At one point, her feet stretched out onto his lap. Rick focused on the TV and his mind drifted to somewhere in the past. He forgot that it wasn't his wife sleeping beside him. He idly rubbed her calves like he used to do to Lori when she'd fall asleep on the couch while they watched their primetime lineups together.

Beth started to stir a little. Rick returned to the present. He thought she was waking up, so he switched the channel back to the other show and waited. Beth's feet twitched and she drew her knees up. Rick couldn't help thinking that her movements were odd and jerky. He surmised that maybe she was a deep sleeper and it took her a while to fully wake up.

"Beth?" he asked softly.

She opened her eyes and sat up. Her gaze was different. She was staring off into oblivion despite her body being completely alert. Rick had never seen a sleepwalker up close, before, but he'd heard enough stories around the precinct to know that they were often the victims of hit-and-runs and other mishaps. They were also sometimes dangerous to themselves or others.

"Beth?" he asked again, hoping the sound of his voice would snap her out of it.

She stood up and walked toward the kitchen. She called over her shoulder, "I'll be out in two minutes' time!"

Rick followed her to the kitchen counter where Beth had stacked up a bunch of dishes, earlier. She took one of the plates and handed it to him. He took it from her and set it back down on the counter. Beth handed him a few more plates one at a time, then she took one in her hands and suddenly stopped short.

"What's wrong, Beth?" he asked.

Her expression was calm until he said her name. She made a revolted face like something had made her sick. She smashed the plate against the tile floor and screamed, "MOMMA!"

"Beth!" Rick tried to grab her arms to stop her, but it was too late.

"MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA!" she screamed over and over and over, again.

She kept smashing plates against the tile floor. The fragments were flying everywhere and Rick was afraid Beth was going to get cut up. She was screaming so loudly, her voice was straining and about to be lost. He wanted to stop her, but Rick had always been told that you don't ever wake up a sleepwalker.

"Beth! Beth! Beth!" Rick tried to call to her between screams to get her attention.

She didn't hear him. Rick was completely helpless. He had no idea what to do to help her.

Someone was banging on the front door. It took Rick a short while to notice it. He rushed to look out the peephole and see whom it was.

Daryl yelled from the other side, "You better open up the goddamn door or I'll kick it down!"

Rick obliged. Daryl raced over to Beth and wrapped his arms around her. He held her until she stopped screaming and he whispered her name repeatedly to ease her out of her nightmare.

Beth didn't ask what had happened. She didn't cry or make excuses for what she had done. She and Daryl looked like they were all too familiar with the issue.

"She alright? She's not hurt?" Rick asked.

Daryl scanned her over in one glance and replied, "She's fine."

"Beth?" Rick asked her directly just to make sure.

"You think I'm lyin'?" Daryl shot back.

Rick put up his hands in defeat and replied softly, "I just wanna hear it from her."

Beth peeked out from behind Daryl's arm. She looked exhausted and her _Sunrise_ appeal had almost faded away, completely. It struck Rick to his core.

"I'll pay for the dishes," Beth croaked, her voice barely audible.

"Don't worry about that," Rick said.

Daryl was already leading Beth out the door. Daryl told Rick just before they left, "You give me a price for them dishwares an' I'll pay up."

"I said don't worry about-" Rick was cut off when Daryl slammed the door in his face.

:-:

* * *

><p>It was after three. This was the time when Beth and Daryl usually got up to run errands before work. <em>All she wanted to do was go back to bed.<em>

She felt more exhausted than usual. Whatever she had been dreaming before Daryl brought her out of it was too intense for words. She could remember pieces of it. Something to do with her mother. Maggie was in trouble, maybe. Something was wrong. That was all she really knew.

Beth took a seat in the kitchen and Daryl brewed them up some coffee. He handed her a cup and she took small sips to calm her nerves. He started to take out ingredients for pancakes but Beth told him, "I don't want none. Just coffee, today."

Daryl nodded and started to put the ingredients back. Beth suddenly felt like she couldn't take it anymore and she got up to leave the room.

"I'm gonna go lie down for a bit," she told Daryl without looking at him.

She went straight to her room and climbed into bed. She hugged her knees against her chest as she started to cry. Whatever her dream was about, it had stirred up old emotions that had come bubbling to the surface and they could not be ignored.

Beth didn't know how long she was crying. She thought she heard her bedroom door open but she didn't turn to look. She felt the weight of the bed shift as Daryl climbed in beside her. Beth wiped her tears away and rolled over to face him.

He reached down and unbuttoned her jeans. He used his middle finger to push down against the zipper latch so it glided open. Beth watched Daryl sit up on his knees so he could take her jeans off. He slipped them down to her ankles and removed them along with her sneakers. She still had his boxers on and he tugged those off as well. He left her top on.

Daryl only parted her knees slightly, like he was still trying to be a gentleman about the whole thing. Beth wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks and lay still as she could. Daryl turned to one side and pushed his way between her legs so she wouldn't have to part her knees much further. He was trying so hard to be decent, like a move too sultry would ruin the idea of _makin' love_.

Beth thought he was coming up to kiss her lips, but Daryl linked his arms underneath her and lifted her lower half a bit so he could use his mouth to part her _other_ pair of lips.

A sudden wave of pleasure threatened to overcome her. Beth was startled by the sensation and she instinctively kicked her feet. Her left heel managed to land a good one right against his lower ribs.

Daryl made a surprised grunt and looked up. Beth clutched the sheets and breathed, "I'm sorry! Sorry!"

He scoffed and mumbled, "Good God, Greene, I was tryin' to make ya feel better."

"You are! It does feel good! It does!" Beth confessed.

Daryl made a low chuckle and headed back down. While they were kissing, Beth couldn't remember him using much tongue, but he was showcasing a real talent with it this time. Daryl was careful to get the right spot every time, making the pleasure so intense that Beth had to restrain herself from accidentally kicking the shit out of him.

Her voice was so strained that she could only manage to squeak out a few sighs and moans. It sounded nothing like the response she wanted to give, but Daryl didn't seem to mind. He even paused for a minute to kiss her inner thighs so Beth could catch her breath. When he returned to her middle, Beth could feel a strong climax coming on.

"Daryl!" she gasped, making tight fists against the sheets as her entire body went into spasms.

He rested his head against her stomach so he could feel her _tense_ and _**release**_, _tense_ and _**release**_. When Beth finally relaxed, Daryl sat back on his knees and opened his own jeans.

He left his clothes on. He only pushed his jeans halfway past his thighs. Beth waited until Daryl was coming back to her before she dared to look down and catch a glimpse of him. Everything was where it should be. No missing or strange looking parts. He had a full erection. She couldn't see any scars on his groin. Knowing this gave her a sense of _relief_.

Beth was still clutching the sheets when Daryl started to push inside of her. Already finding release meant that she was plenty ready to take him once he entered. He didn't keep his gaze on hers for long, but buried his head against her shoulder to avoid the eye contact that made him so uncomfortable no matter what the circumstance.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate. He was acting somewhat on natural instinct as well as a method of touch-and-go. Beth wondered how many girls Daryl had been with before her. She didn't believe he was a virgin, but she could believe he had been too drunk to remember whatever encounters he did have. He wasn't unsure of himself like a first timer would be. He just seemed more curious and contemplative than what Beth considered most men to be like.

She wanted to let go of the sheets and put her hands on him, but she had no idea how he'd react. She was grateful when he took her hands with his and guided her down to put them on his lower back. His t-shirt had bunched up enough that she could feel his skin and touch the protrusions of his spine without having to take anything away. There weren't as many scars there, but she could still feel some _ribbons_ inside her palms.

Beth felt Daryl tensing up as he neared his own climax. They hadn't been going on very long. She wondered if this was why he went down on her, first. Daryl only managed a couple more thrusts before he groaned and released. Beth felt his _consequence_ spill out inside of her. He was still working himself out when Beth decided to reach down and feel his backside.

There were a few scars, there. More like grooves, like someone had taken to Daryl with an uneven paddle or a belt buckle. It made Beth feel hatred for the person who did this.

Daryl had stopped moving. Beth slowly took her hands away and brought them to her chest. Daryl lifted his head and she braced herself for another angry outburst.

Only this time, he wasn't angry. He looked more sad than anything.

"I didn' mean ta hurch you," Daryl tugged at her long sleeves so he could expose and kiss her sore wrists.

They were slightly bruised. Seeing this made Daryl look even more ashamed.

"I know you didn' mean it," Beth reassured him.

Daryl lowered his gaze and rested his head against her chest. Beth put her arms around him and held him in place. His erection was gone, but he was still inside of her. She just let him be.


	8. Bitter Sweet

**Eight: Bitter. Sweet.  
><strong>

Shane was a man of many talents. Those talents did not include being subtle.

Lori Grimes never fit his taste in women. He liked them a little more plump, a little shorter and a little less bossy. Lori was a better pick for Rick because he'd do just about anything for her. She was like the woman behind the song, "_Grenade_" by Bruno Mars. She'd never do the same.

That's why Shane didn't understand what kept him coming back to her. It started off casual enough. He had to see her when he stopped by to talk to Rick. She was there when Rick brought the family to the precinct's yearly Christmas parties. If Rick forgot to turn his phone on, Shane had to call Lori to remind him. Casual. Nothing intimate.

Shane couldn't recall the exact moment of change, but something clicked within him and he realized how empty his life was without a long-term commitment. He found himself stopping by more and more. His excuse was to see Rick. He started doing some work around the house. His excuse was that Rick didn't know how so he was just helping the family out. He started spending more time with Carl. His excuse was that he liked the kid and they clicked.

Lori didn't exactly show an interest, but she wasn't telling him to get out. The more time Shane spent with her, the more he started to believe that she was his.

The moment finally came. Some random mid-afternoon in July. Carl was out playing baseball with the neighborhood kids. Rick was swamped with paperwork back at the precinct. Shane came over to fix the bathroom sink. He couldn't remember all the details, or how much time had passed. He did remember that Lori was wearing a dark purple dress that dipped low in front. She said she was going to a sponsorship dinner that night and she was trying on the dress in her room when Shane busted a pipe and she came rushing in to help him.

She was barefoot and bra-less. Her hair was hanging all around her shoulders and the water had drenched her nice new dress. She was laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. Shane was also soaked to the bone and he didn't want to laugh, but her lighthearted attitude made him crack up.

He found his way on top of her. She didn't push him away. They were kissing and getting more heated. She didn't tell him to stop. The bathroom floor was still wet. It was hot enough that it didn't matter. He fucked her harder than he intended to. She didn't hate him, afterwards.

Shane knew the baby was his as soon as Rick said Lori was pregnant. He tried to get to her, to tell her that he'd be there for his child, but she couldn't manage a second alone with him.

Once that baby was gone, Lori was gone, too.

She had mentioned more than once about going to Atlanta. Shane knew that's where she'd go if she ever left Grimes. He found her more easily than he thought he would. He offered to give her a place to stay. He knew the area better than she did. She still refused him.

He didn't immediately follow her to the city. He waited almost a year before he moved away from the piss-ant town he called home. Rick was never the wiser. He was too much of a nice guy to think his best friend was going out to find his soon-to-be-ex.

Shane found a place to live outside of Atlanta. He looked up Lori, again. He found her in an old strip joint called Club Teramin. He was infuriated at first, thinking that Lori had been forced into the trade to make ends meet. Then he realized she chose the life. He kept an eye on her while she worked.

Lori only followed him home for booty calls. She only talked to him when she had a problem that she didn't want to get her hands dirty with. She spent one night with him to tell him about a young doe-eyed thing from the sticks. Beth was her name.

Shane had been given explicit instructions from Lori to find a way to rid the club of, "Their rip-off version of Baby Spice." Lori told him stories over time of Beth's diva personality backstage, how Beth could get Gareth to approve of anything she wanted, and how Beth was using her popularity with the men to make sure that Lori had less and less stage time.

"It's getting to the point where it's _costing_ me money to work there!" Lori complained.

Shane watched Beth. She did appear to have a lot of stage time compared to the other girls. Lori was in some of the acts with Beth, but Lori was a background girl. Shane saw how Beth interacted with the other girls. She appeared nice to most of them, but she showed an aversion to Lori. He watched Beth with the men. She spent some time with a guy named Merle. Looked like some ex-military _asshole_.

He spent months trying to find a way to get rid of Beth. She seemed to notice he was watching her and she was starting to get uneasy. She was never in a good place to cause a simple accident or something that would keep her out of work for a while. She was starting to catch on to the fact that Shane was paying attention to her. He knew he would have to lay low for a while or he'd risk wearing out his welcome at the club.

Shane took a trip to Miami for a few months. He learned about gator fishing. He got himself a nice tan. He shaved his head. He learned there were ways to make someone disappear.

He had only been back a few hours when Lori called him up in a rage, "Where'd you go? You know that girl has a new routine?! I'm out for sure!"

"Calm down, alright? I'll take care of it," Shane reassured her.

"She's got a new puppy hangin' around her, too! Daryl Dixon, the brother of that junkie, Merle! Daryl's softer but he ain't weak! You'll need to get her quick or he'll put an arrow in your ass!"

"An arrow? What is he, some sort of vigilante?" Shane snorted laughter.

"He's like a hunter or tracker or both. Beth talks about it like he's some sort of pro. Probably in competitions. Doesn't matter, what does matter is he'll stop you if he catches on to you!"

"He won't," Shane stated.

Lori's voice turned softer as she asked more sweetly, "How do you know for sure?"

"They won't never see me comin'," Shane told her.

:-:

* * *

><p>"Bye," Beth whispered, giving Daryl a quick kiss on the lips before disappearing backstage.<p>

She knew he didn't like public displays of affection, so she kept it as simple as possible. Daryl was glad that Beth understood him so well.

He wandered over to the bar. It was still early enough that there were only two customers in the club and they were being distracted by lap dances from Sasha and Rosita. Gareth was tending the empty bar, cleaning out shot glasses and preparing for another long night.

"Well, hey there, stranger!" Gareth greeted Daryl like they were old pals.

Daryl sat sideways on a bar stool so he didn't have to look at Gareth, directly. He was more interested in observing his surroundings to make sure no one was listening.

"Beth's voice's gone. She'll just be dancin', tonight," Daryl informed Gareth.

It wasn't a suggestion. Gareth understood that and nodded as he replied, "We can always play back the recorded songs so she can lip sync. Customers don't care one way or the other."

Daryl took one more look around before he asked quietly, "I gotta question for you."

"Shoot straight, then," Gareth made the motion of aiming and firing a gun with his hand. Daryl didn't laugh.

"When I was here, last, Beth was singin' her new song, an' was a guy at the bar watchin' her. Looked like military, wearin' commandos an' shit," Daryl said.

Gareth didn't have to think long before he recalled, "Oh, sure! Shane, I think his name is. Not sure of that's his real name. He's one of those paranoid types who acts like he knows everything about everyone else but nobody knows two things about him."

"Seems like the dangerous type," Daryl probed.

With a quick shrug, Gareth surmised, "He looks fierce as fuck but we've never had a problem with him around here. He even dresses like a Jarhead but I've heard the veteran customers call him a wannabe. He just started showing up about...a year ago? About that long. He's been gone a while, though. I thought he moved. Must've been on vacation."

"He attached to one o' the girls, here?" Daryl asked, taking another quick glance around.

"Oh, uh...Lori, I think. He talks to her; takes her home, sometimes. I've never seen him talk to the other girls. He used to watch Beth whenever she was on stage. He's never asked for anything one-on-one with her, though. Guess he's the look-but-don't-touch type."

"May not apply if given the chance," Daryl mumbled under his breath.

"What's that?" Gareth asked.

Daryl just nodded at him and said, "Thanks, man."

Gareth smiled like he had done very well for himself. Daryl was aware of Gareth's taste in men. Daryl was also aware that his body type fit Gareth's needs. Daryl only spoke to him when it concerned Beth. Gareth was always eager to engage with Daryl, but he'd never gone so far that Daryl had to put him in his place.

Daryl hoped it would never come to that.

He was about to walk out when Daryl remembered he needed to talk to Beth. He wanted to tell her that he'd already spoken to Gareth about not singing for the night. Daryl headed to the curtains that led backstage. He stopped when he heard a woman's voice saying, "...a boy-toy is all you need."

He stood just behind the curtain and listened. He could see through the fabric just well enough to make out Beth's form sitting at her vanity. Lori was standing behind Beth and leaning over her in a taunting way. Lori was topless and Beth was trying to lean away from her so she wouldn't get hit with a face-full of boob.

"It ain't like that," Beth whispered, her strained voice sounding too meek to stop the onslaught.

Lori let her head hang back and cackled out loud. Beth put her hands over her ears and leaned even further away. She was about to fall out of her chair.

"You don't even know what real men are like! That little boy that follows you around? He's as green as a fourteen-year-old tradin' cards with his friends of nudie girls thinkin' it's really somethin' special!"

"You're so mean," Beth sighed.

Lori started to turn away like she was going back to her own vanity. Daryl watched as Lori prepared to sit down but shot back up like she had almost forgotten to add something. Lori pointed at Beth's reflection in the mirror and asked in a curiously sensual voice, "That _Archer_ of yours ever put it in your ass?"

Beth shot up out of her chair to walk out. Daryl stepped through the curtain at that moment and she stopped short. Lori gave him a quick once-over and asked flirtatiously, "How long've you been there?"

Beth's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Daryl acted like he had no idea what Lori meant as he relayed to Beth, "Gareth said i's fine if you jus' dance."

Lori's expression fell for a moment. Daryl glanced at her and caught a hint of jealousy. He also caught a much deeper emotion. _**Resentment**_.

"Thank you," Beth whispered, trying to wipe the embarrassment away by running her hands over her face.

Daryl nodded and turned to leave. Beth followed after him and hugged him from behind as soon as they were past the curtain and out of Lori's sight.

He slowly turned around in her arms so he could face her. She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry for what she said."

"'Bout me bein' a boy who don't know a goddamn thing 'bout sex, or 'bout me puttin' it in yer ass?" Daryl lifted a curious brow.

Beth buried her head against his chest to stifle an outburst of giggles made jagged by her lost voice. Daryl pulled her even closer to him and growled in her ear, "Don't matter what I done or ain't done. I'll do anythin' you wan' me to."

Her eyes moved up to meet his. She kept her head tilted against him. She enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her. He enjoyed holding her.

"Guess we'll see," she whispered.

"Can't wait," Daryl half-smiled.

* * *

><p>Author's End Notes: I wanted to point out that Shane won't have a lot of POV moments in this story. This chapter was just to establish his role in the story so that later chapters will make more sense. For those of you who may not have noticed, Shane pops up first in Chapter 2. Merle notices Shane being a creep and Merle offers to get rid of him for Beth. Shane also pops up at the end of Chapter 6. Daryl picks up on Shane as the guy at the bar that Beth looks afraid of. I described the commandos and dead-eye stare both times in hopes that readers would notice it was the same person, but a few people were confused, so I thought I'd clear that up!<p>

For the International folks, _Jarhead_ is an American slang-term for Marine soldiers!

Also, I noticed that I'm writing Lori as this horrible character. I actually liked her on the TV series, though she's a lot better in the comics and she doesn't lose Carl quite so much (those of you who've seen TWD Honest Trailer by Screen Junkies on YouTube will totally get that joke). She just seemed to be a perfect fit as a bad girl in my story because she links a lot of characters together. I could also see her being totally jealous of Beth if they were competing together like _Mom Jeans_ Versus _Clueless_. That movie rocks, by the way. _Clueless_, I mean. Not _Mom Jeans_. I don't think there's a movie named _Mom Jeans_. Rather, I hope there's not a movie named _Mom Jeans_. That's a terrible title.


	9. To Be Free

**Nine: To Be Free**

**SEVERAL DAYS LATER**

Daryl took Beth home after work. She went straight to her room and collapsed into bed. Daryl climbed into bed beside her and rested for a couple of hours. He wanted to make sure Beth was safe before he took his leave.

He went to Rick's apartment and knocked on the door. Grimes answered with a tired look on his face. He smelled of sweat and dust from unpacking and his shirt had several yellow mustard stains on it. Once Rick recognized it was Daryl, he put his hand up and stated, "There's no need to pay for the dishes-"

Daryl ignored him and held up a fifty dollar bill. Rick frowned at him but Daryl refused to put it back in his pocket.

"That's too much," Rick argued.

When Daryl still refused to put it away, Rick snatched it away from him and shoved it into a back pocket with a humble nod and, "Thank you."

"I'm goin' out. I need you to watch over Beth while I'm gone," Daryl informed him.

Grimes' eyes widened with surprise, then they narrowed as he tried to assess whether Daryl were fooling with him or not. Daryl started back for his apartment and Rick followed along behind. As soon as they entered the main area, Daryl pointed at an old leather recliner in the makeshift living room and stated, "Jus' stay there an' watch some TV or somethin'. If Beth sleepwalks out here, don' wake her up. Follow her an' make sure she don't fuck herself up."

Rick snorted at the word usage. Daryl turned on his heel to leave without another word. Rick had to assume that Beth was somewhere down the hallway in a back bedroom and judging from Daryl's need to point out the recliner and state explicit instructions on where he should be, Rick was not allowed to go back there and check up on her. Rick stole a sideways glance at Daryl and he noticed a stern expression on the man's face. It told him Daryl did not want to leave Beth but something required his attention. He also did not appear to be satisfied with having to ask Rick to watch over her.

"Why me?" Rick just had to ask.

Daryl was almost out the door when he stopped and turned to face Rick with an acidic look. Rick suddenly regretted his attempt at being a wise-ass.

"You're a cop, ain't ya?! Why don't you figure it out, Grimes!" Daryl growled at him before slamming the door.

He barreled down the stairs with heavy footfalls, his mood turned sour by the gleaming azul eyes of the dry humored Rick Grimes. Daryl was not yet sure what exactly bothered him about Rick besides _**everything**_. The worst part was that Daryl couldn't seem to erase the memory in his mind of the way Beth looked when she was introducing him to Rick. _Her tank top all wet and torn and stretched from work. The sheen of sweat on her skin only made her look more beautiful...her hair all tied up with loose strands in a mess around her face...one all caught up across her left cheek that curled when she smiled..._

Daryl wasn't stupid. He'd been around enough guys to know exactly what they did after they'd been around a cute girl all day. The idea only fueled his rage. He was about to head outside when he turned back and went straight for Glenn's apartment.

He banged on the door with his fist and paced the hallway. When Glenn didn't answer, he kicked the door several times with his boot. Daryl didn't care who was listening as he yelled through the door, "Get off your ass and stop screwin' around! Go make somethin' of yourself, you strung-out Korean bastard!"

Daryl gave the door one last swift kick before he stormed out of the apartment complex. He was about halfway to his destination when he considered that Rick had possibly come out to check up on things and he may have heard the part about Glenn being strung-out.

_Guess time would tell._

:-:

* * *

><p>Daryl arrived at the County Jail a few hours outside of Atlanta in less time than he thought. The noonday sun was already packing the heat and the jail itself looked distorted from afar by those little waves of heat that came up from the ground. Daryl had already called and asked for visitation to see his brother, Merle. It usually took a day or two for visitation to be confirmed.<p>

The place smelled like mothballs. Daryl couldn't figure out why, considering most everything was made of concrete. The guard behind the desk was a dark-skinned man from a foreign country that Daryl didn't recognize. Possibly Middle-Eastern or Indian. The man spoke nearly perfect English and he showed no emotion when he read the last name _Dixon_ on the visitation form. Daryl was surprised by that. Usually Merle stirred up so much shit wherever he was that staff made a whole range of expressions to depict their disdain for the Dixon name.

Visitors had to travel a short maze of hallways to a room with round tables and uncomfortable chairs. All furniture was attached to metal poles within the concrete. Daryl took a seat against the furthest wall so he could watch the room. He wondered why the visitation furniture had been so aggressively welded together. He observed a few other visitors talking to their jailed loved ones. A fat woman in a white dress with red roses talked to her equally fat jailbird husband. They kissed and held hands and she cried while he told her about his, "Time in the slammer."

A gorgeous brunette sauntered her way into the room at one point. All the jailbirds turned to look. Some of the women scowled. She took a seat across the room from Daryl and a man with long gray hair and arms turned black from layers of tattoos came out to greet her. He looked like her grandfather. They tongue-kissed. Daryl quickly looked away.

Merle finally arrived after a long silence. Always late and completely unaware of his own rudeness, Merle simply put his hands out and said with a wry grin, "Well, hello there, Baby Brother!"

Daryl nodded back at him. Merle frowned slightly like he had expected more of a reaction to his presence.

"What brings you to see dear ole' Merle," he added as he took a seat.

Daryl got right to it, "I wanna ask you 'bout a guy at Club Teramin who's botherin' Beth."

Merle's brow furrowed in confusion. Daryl couldn't always tell whether Merle was really confused or just dragging the conversation out by playing dumb.

"Beth the one I knocked up?" Merle twined his fingers together and clenched his jaw like he was trying to picture her.

Daryl shook his head and replied, "Naw, Beth's the blond who likes to sing."

An invisible light bulb went off inside Merle's head as his face lit up with recognition, "Oh-ho-ho! _Baby Bird_!"

The way Merle practically sang when he called her Baby Bird made Daryl shift uncomfortably in his seat. Merle noticed.

"You know, Georgia's known for their peaches, but that one _smelled_ just as sweet as she was. I always did wonder if she _tasted_ as sweet," Merle's eyes rolled around in his head as he reminisced.

He took in a deep breath and leaned in closely to whisper, "Ain't nothin' so sweet as the smell o' _**pussy**_, Brother."

Daryl was suddenly bombarded with a flood of images he never wanted to see: _Beth giving Merle a lap dance in one of the curtained booths of Club Teramin. Merle handing her a drink and watching her taste it with lust-filled eyes. Beth dancing naked on stage while Merle stared at her with a drunken gaze._

Whenever Merle wanted a girl he couldn't have, he would rub his thumb and forefinger together in an idle, subconscious way. Daryl glanced down and saw that Merle was doing it, now.

"You had a thing with Beth?" Daryl's voice was hardly audible.

A _Joker_ grin slowly reached either end of Merle's face. He paused to consider his options and the amount of pain he could inflict on his little brother with a single answer. The smile faded slightly as Merle reconsidered his desire to punish if only to learn more about what Daryl was there for.

"I ain't never had no thing with Beth," Merle used her real name for the first time.

Daryl searched his brother's face for signs of a lie. Merle seemed sincere.

Enjoying the attention, Merle couldn't help but add, "Too young for my taste."

Daryl didn't have to look too closely to know _that_ was a lie. If Beth was into it, Merle would've fucked her every which way.

"Besides," Merle rambled on, "Girl I was with would get downright catty about me so much as talkin' to the others. I was scared she'd claw out Baby Bird's big ole' doll eyes should I get too close!"

Merle imitated a crow clawing at a fresh kill. Daryl chuckled and the heaviness on his heart eased up a little. At least he knew for sure Beth hadn't given Merle any lap dances.

Daryl glanced at the clock. He only had so much time before visitation was over. He went back to his first train of thought, "Beth said you were gonna help her out with a guy, Shane, at the club. He was stalkin' her an' you offered to run him off."

The light bulb in Merle's head nearly exploded.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho! Baaaaby Brother! I guess Baby Bird went and found herself a _sparrow_!" Merle broke out into a fit of roaring laughter.

Most of the people in the room turned to face them. Daryl turned to the wall so they wouldn't notice his face turning a deep shade of crimson. Merle just kept laughing like he could go on forever until Daryl shouted at him, "Shut up!"

Merle immediately slowed down to a light chuckle, making it clear that he was only laughing so hard to mess with Daryl's head.

Daryl stood up to leave. Merle got angry and shouted, "Come on, now! I was only bustin' your balls, Brother! Sit the hell back down!"

Merle pointed at the seat. Daryl reluctantly took it to avoid more mayhem. He was starting to doubt he would be granted another visitation.

"Why you wanna know so much about it?" Merle asked with more intent.

He seemed interested to know what Daryl was up to. In a quieter tone so no one would overhear, Daryl explained, "I stuck around to help out the girl you knocked up. She moved on. Beth said she needed some help payin' rent. I moved in with her. Got a job at the slaughterhouse. She told me 'bout some guy named Shane used to bother her. He weren't around no more but he showed up an' now Beth ain't safe."

Merle made a short smile like there were all kinds of things he wanted to say. He settled with, "Look here, Little Brother, it's quite a code of honor, your bein' a hero to every damsel in distress, but Dead Eyes ain't someone to run off. Word is he's a former cop."

Daryl was surprised by the revelation. He whispered, "You run him off last time?"

Merle shook his head and replied, "Baby Bird was growin' wise to him. Some of the Vets who were club regulars were mad Dead Eyes acted military without puttin' in the time. I thought he'd taken off to get outta the heat. Thought he'd stay gone. Guess I was wrong."

"How do I chase him off, again?" Daryl asked.

Merle answered with a shrug, "Don't know, Little Brother. Dead Eyes is smart. He'll go 'round you an' break Baby Bird's wings 'fore you get a chance to tuck her away."

Daryl clenched his jaw. He didn't like that answer.

"Can't save 'em all," Merle told him.

Daryl looked Merle straight in the eyes and said, "This one's worth savin'."

Merle was struck with yet another realization. This time, though, he chose not to tease. He knew better than to pick on someone who was in love.

"Dead Eyes was into that older one...Laura. I'd say use her if he gets too close," Merle surmised.

"Lori?" Daryl asked to be sure.

"Yeah, that's it. The _Black Widow_. Word is she left her ball-and-chain and a young son back in the same town Dead Eyes hails from. Heard her hubbie was also a cop. Poor sap had no idea his partner had it so bad for his wife," Merle explained.

Several pieces began coming together in Daryl's mind. A notion he hadn't considered came to light. He didn't want it to be true.

"You know the name o' her ball-and-chain? Or her son?" Daryl asked.

Merle tried to remember. Daryl silently pleaded for any name but the ones that were in his head.

"I'm sure the son's Carl," Merle said.

The pieces in Daryl's mind formed a perfect moving picture. Rick in the passenger seat of a local police car cruising the town...with Shane at the wheel.

"Wha's that look for, Little Brother?" Merle asked curiously.

"I gotta go," Daryl took off without saying good-bye.


	10. Butterfly Wing

**Ten: Butterfly Wing  
><strong>

Rick was beginning to think Daryl was a rage fiend.

He'd only come across the type a few times while on duty. They were usually guys, but he had come across a female, once. People who look normal and don't say much until you say the wrong thing, which usually turns out to be the most non-rage provoking thing. Then they fly off the handle and go into some sort of blackout ferociousness that you had no idea they were even capable of.

Daryl was one of those. A scrawny, simple looking guy who never talks shit and only seems to care about one girl in all the world. A guy who apparently can't take a joke.

Rick got up and opened the door as soon as Daryl left. He watched the younger man go downstairs, then Rick watched as Daryl rounded the corner and started banging on the door of some poor fool who was only referred to as a _strung-out Korean bastard_.

As soon as Daryl left, Rick went downstairs and checked all the doors for signs of damage. He hadn't seen exactly which door Daryl was trying to kick down, but the scuff marks on one of them gave him the best clue.

He stood there a few minutes to see if anyone would come out. When no one did, Rick went back upstairs to check on Beth.

Daryl had given him explicit instructions not to go back to her bedroom. After seeing Dixon cause such chaos over a sarcastic remark, Rick ultimately decided Daryl was unhinged and he ignored what he was told to do.

Rick slowly turned the knob and let the door fall open. Beth was lying on her stomach in bed with her head mostly buried under her pillow. Her blonde hair was a mess all around her back. She had kicked the blankets off and Rick's eyes drifted over her white tank top and the curves of her bottom under a thin layer of boxer shorts.

He felt a little guilty, admiring her so when she wasn't even aware of it. He surveyed the room, telling himself he was gathering information about the surroundings so he could know more about her. His eyes eventually found their way back to her. He stared for much too long.

Rick closed the door to let her sleep. He turned around and saw another door just across the hall. He assumed it led to Daryl's room. Curiosity got the best of him and Rick stole a peek. While Beth's room had been decorated with pastels in pink, blue and green and showed signs of love and warmth, Daryl's room was a stark contrast with grey and black hordes of clothing and hunting gear piled in the corners. There was a mattress and box springs set up on some cinder blocks. There were more piles between the bed and the floor. The closet was open and Rick saw a crossbow sticking out of it. He was aware the law would consider that a deadly weapon and Daryl needed a permit to keep it in an apartment complex.

Rick considered pulling the permit card next time Daryl gave him hell. He felt a small sense of satisfaction knowing he at least had some kind of leverage.

There was a soft knock at the door of the apartment. Rick went to check it out. He opened the door to find a young man with almond-shaped eyes and a ruffled head of short black hair. He was dressed in paint-stained clothes and he looked like he had just gotten out of bed. Rick assumed this was probably the _strung-out Korean_ Daryl had antagonized, earlier.

"Is Daryl here?" the man asked when he realized Rick was not the person he was expecting.

Rick shook his head and replied, "You the one he was bangin' the door down to get to?"

The young man nodded, though he didn't seem too upset about the whole thing. Rick wondered if it were a common occurrence for Daryl to react with anger. It was another red flag on his list of reasons why Beth may be in danger of becoming a battered girlfriend.

"Name's Glenn," the young man reached out to shake Rick's hand.

"Rick Grimes," he replied.

Glenn took his hand back and asked, "Is Beth around?"

"She's asleep," Rick nodded back to the bedrooms.

Glenn returned a nod of his own and asked, "What brings you here?"

"I moved into the apartment next door. Daryl had some errands to run and he asked me to watch over Beth," Rick explained.

"Oh, 'cause of the sleepwalking," Glenn surmised.

"You wanna come in? I could make us some coffee," Rick said.

Glenn came in and they made their way to the kitchen. Glenn easily took a seat on one of the patio chairs like he'd been there, before. Rick had yet to meet anyone else in the building since move-in day. He wanted to know more about the people he'd be dealing with for a long time to come.

"You have any idea why Beth has all that trouble sleeping?" Rick probed for information while he worked on finding cups and grounds to make coffee.

The coffee machine on the kitchen counter was simple enough. Glenn answered while he waited, "I think it's trauma. She's been through a lot. Lost her mom when she was still in her teens. Lost her boyfriend to a wreck in high school too, I think."

Beth had told Rick about her mother, but he was not aware of the boyfriend's death. Rick probed a little further, "She meet Daryl in high school?"

"No, they met at the club where she works. I think Daryl's brother, Merle, knocked up a girl there or something," Glenn rubbed his eyes.

Another red flag to add to Rick's list. He couldn't help asking, "Where's Merle now?"

"County lockup. He's one of those chronic offender types," Glenn answered.

Rick set up the coffee and sat down across from Glenn. Rick remained as calm as possible so he could continue getting information without coming across as overly interested.

"Did Beth let Daryl move in here 'cause she couldn't afford the rent alone?" Rick asked.

Glenn shrugged and replied somberly, "I dunno. They both moved in here, together, so I just thought they were a couple. I actually thought Beth came out here for college. She's never said as much."

"Daryl looks a lot older than Beth. You know their age difference?" Rick asked.

"I can't tell. Daryl never says how old he is. I'd say maybe a ten-year difference," Glenn replied.

"Daryl have any priors?" Rick asked.

Glenn made a confused expression. Rick was reminded that not everyone followed cop-talk. He rephrased the question, "Daryl ever been in trouble with the law?"

"No, not at all," Glenn shook his head and added, "Daryl's the kind of guy nobody gives any credit to because of his looks and his family. _Backwoods dumbass_, I've heard people call him. He's not what he appears. He's a good guy at heart, he just doesn't have the confidence in himself to believe it."

Rick studied him a moment. Glenn was far more perceptive and advanced than he came across initially. He had a kind face and a sort of charisma that couldn't quite be explained. He also did not appear to be_ strung-out _at the moment. Rick was well aware addicts could be completely normal at times.

The coffee maker beeped ready. Rick got up and poured a cup for Glenn and himself. They drank a while in silence before Glenn stood up and said, "I should go. Tell Daryl I didn't mean to get him all riled up."

"It wasn't your fault. I made a comment he didn't like and that's what set him off," Rick replied.

He walked with Glenn out to the hallway. Glenn mentioned before he took to the stairs, "When Daryl goes nuts, don't take it personally. He's not into the social stuff. That's why Beth's so good for him. She makes him seem..._normal_."

:-:

* * *

><p>Muffled sounds stirred Beth awake. She was confused by the noise at first, thinking Daryl had left the TV on with the volume up too high. She climbed out of bed and pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail. She didn't bother to put on a robe. She wasn't expecting any company.<p>

Beth opened the door to her room and the muffled sounds formed into a voice. It was Daryl's. He was yelling about something.

"You get on out! Yer not welcome here no more!"

"Why the hell not?!" a second male voice argued.

"'Cause I said so! Now fuck off!" Daryl shot back.

Beth was still half-asleep and hadn't quite made the connection that someone else besides Daryl was in the apartment. She wandered down to the end of the hall and leaned against the wall.

"What's goin' on?" Beth murmured.

Daryl looked up. Then down. His eyes narrowed sharply.

Beth glanced to her left and caught sight of Rick. He was heaving from shouting so much and he too glanced down. Beth followed their gaze. She was in a tank top and boxer shorts. The boxers had been bunched up while she slept. She was showing off a bit too much skin.

She felt her cheeks burn as she tugged the edges of the boxers down so they weren't quite so revealing. She regretted not getting her robe and she thought to go back and get it, but Daryl startled her when he began yelling again, "Stop starin' at her like that, Grimes!"

Beth looked at Rick. He tried to turn away, but he was already caught.

For the first time since she first met him, Beth was made fully aware that Rick Grimes had a real interest in her.

She looked at Daryl. His face was all red and he looked more furious than she had ever seen him, before.

It also became very clear to Beth why Daryl had shown such disdain for Rick in the first place.

Beth was reminded of a time in middle school. Her friend Amelia was telling her about two of the boys in their class who were going to fight over her after school.

"It's so sweet, havin' two boys want you so bad they'll go neck-to-neck for it!" Amelia swooned.

Beth thought it was ridiculous.

"What if they kill each other? Then you got nobody to love!" Beth told her.

Amelia still thought it was the most romantic thing that had ever been done for her. The boys did have a fight, but they must've decided it wasn't worth it because after they got caught and served a few days' detention, Amelia was left boyfriend-less and alone.

"What's all this about?" Beth came out and stood between the two men before they could duke it out.

She faced Daryl, first. He clamped his mouth shut and refused to talk. Beth turned her attention on Rick. He put his hands on his hips and explained calmly, "Daryl asked me to stay and watch over you while he went out. He just came back and now he's saying I can't be here. He didn't give a reason."

Beth turned back to Daryl. He was shifting his weight between his feet and he couldn't keep his focus on her eyes. He kept glancing down at her boxers.

"Why'd you ask him to leave, Daryl? He do somethin' wrong?" Beth asked.

Daryl shook his head but still refused to provide answers. Beth faced Rick again and argued, "Were you spyin' on me or somethin'? You go through my things?"

Rick shook his head. Beth narrowed her eyes and stated, "Did Daryl catch you jerkin' yerself off about me?"

Both men were caught by surprise. Rick put his hands up in defeat and argued, "I would never do a thing like that!"

Daryl shot back, "I bet you want to, huh?! Seein' Beth like this, you'll go on back to yer place an' get yerself off a few times!"

Beth stared at Daryl with widened eyes. He was trying to shoot Rick down, but it was coming out sounding more like Daryl himself was aroused by Beth's appearance and he was trying to play it off on Rick.

"What the hell is goin' on?!" Beth screamed.

Rick shook his head and looked at Daryl. Beth turned to face him as well. Daryl folded his arms to set a barrier and grumbled, "Rick's ex-wife's name is Lori."

"I know," Beth replied.

Daryl blinked with surprise and asked, "You knew Lori from the club's his ex?"

This time, it was Beth who was surprised.

"The club? My ex-wife works at a club?" Rick was totally confused.

Daryl nodded to Rick with his chin and added, "Grimes used to be partners with Shane."

Beth gasped and put her hand over her mouth. Rick could not figure out why his relations were causing such a dramatic response.

"Why's it such a big deal?" Rick asked.

Beth took her hand away and took a moment to regroup. She started to tremble as she explained, "I work with Lori at Club Teramin. She thinks I stole her spotlight an' she's been plannin' to get rid of me ever since. Shane started showin' up a while back. He watches me on stage like he wants to..."

She closed her eyes, unable to continue. Daryl finished for her, "He's had it out for Beth. He took off for a while but now he's back. I went to see my brother, Merle. He says Shane's got it bad for Lori and he's willin' to take Beth down 'cause she told 'im to."

Rick could hardly believe what he was hearing. Beth watched him try to process the information as he countered, "Look, I dunno what the deal is, but I grew up with Shane. He likes his women, but he was never one to hurt them or someone else on their behalf. I think you've got the wrong guy, here."

Daryl took a step forward and shouted, "Oh, yeah? Big macho _sonofabitch_ with a buzz cut an' commando jeans? Tha' ring a bell?"

He had given a spot-on description. Rick nodded but continued to defend his old friend, "Shane isn't one to resort to violence against women. In fact, he had a real problem with abusive men. I'm sorry he's frightened you, Beth, but I can assure you, you've got nothin' to worry about."

"You don't understand. The way he looks at me..." Beth's eyes filled with tears.

Rick hated to see her so distraught. He decided to take it upon himself to make things right, "Look, I haven't talked to Shane, yet. I'll call him up and ask to meet him, someplace. I'll find out where he lives."

Beth felt a sense of relief for the first time since Shane had started bothering her. Rick went on, "I should get ahold of him by tomorrow. Beth, you let me know when you go to work that evening if he's there or not. I'd like to come by the club and talk to Lori before Shane gets there. I'll make sure the whole thing gets sorted and no one gets hurt."

"How do we know you ain't gonna help 'em out? They're yer friends an' all. You might jus' decide to turn on us," Daryl argued.

"I've got no reason to," Rick shook his head.

Daryl remained unconvinced. Rick would have to show proof of his loyalty to gain Dixon's acceptance. He looked at Beth. She was equally unsure.

"You trust me?" he asked her point blank.

She stared at him for a few seconds in silence before responding strongly, "I trust Daryl."

Rick nodded that he understood. He knew he would have to work hard to convince them both.

"Put my number on your phone. I'll text you updates. You can text me tomorrow when it's a good time to come by the club," Rick said.

Beth left the room to retrieve her cell from her bedroom. Rick told her his number and she saved it to her contacts. He said before he took his leave, "Glenn stopped by. That's why there's two cups of coffee in the kitchen sink."

Rick walked out. Beth push the door closed behind him. She stood there a second longer before she turned around to face Daryl. She was caught by surprise when he enveloped her mouth in a sensual kiss.

He surrounded her body with his hands, moving so fast that Beth hardly had time to comprehend where he was headed. Her boxers were pulled down in a flash. She kicked them past her feet. Her tank top was pulled over her head in the second Daryl broke away from kissing to take a breath before he was mashing his lips against hers, again.

Beth had never felt such a flurry of attention from a man, before. She was surprised at how easily she was aroused by the thought of Daryl wanting her so bad. He was never this spontaneous. It was _**exhilarating**_.

He broke away from her lips to breathe. Beth helped Daryl slide his angel wing vest off and he tossed it in the direction of the recliner. Neither checked to see where it actually landed.

Daryl was still trying to catch the air while simultaneously working to open his jeans. Beth used his distraction to reach for the buttons of his shirt. She worked quickly to open it. Daryl suddenly realized what she was doing and he locked eyes with her.

She sweetly; innocently tugged at the next button down on his shirt as she whispered, "I won't take it all the way off. I jus' wanna see your muscles."

Daryl turned away and chewed his lower lip. He seemed to be fighting his inner thoughts over how he should let her proceed. He groaned with a sense of arousal and defeat as he lowered his head and shyly buried his face against her neck.

Beth had his shirt almost halfway open. She splayed it out just enough to get a good look at his pectorals. She giggled when she realized she was right about him having more definition because of the hard work he did at the slaughterhouse. She thought he looked _**amazing**_.

Daryl started to grow tense. He was shifting his weight between his feet like he did when he was agitated. Beth was afraid she'd lose him to another bout of anger. He pulled away from her neck and looked her in the eyes. She could tell he was overwhelmed by too many emotions at once. His inner conflict had to be released. He leaned down and did something Beth never expected.

He turned his head at an angle underneath the curve of her left breast. Daryl opened his mouth as wide as it would go. He grazed the underside of her breast with his teeth. It created sensations Beth hadn't felt, before.

She clutched the back of his neck and cried out with surprise. Daryl immediately stood up straight and locked eyes with her, his expression full of worry that he had hurt her, somehow.

Beth couldn't form the words to let him know what she was feeling. The range of emotions was scattered everywhere in her mind. Her body started to tremble. She was so aroused, she thought she might just drift right over climax without needing to be touched.

She wanted to tell him she was ready. She was grateful that Daryl was so good at reading her without words. He lifted her up and held her against the metal door of the apartment. It felt cool against her back in contrast to the hot and humid room.

Beth lowered herself until Daryl was inside. He made a short grunt of surprise, like he hadn't expected her to be so ready. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and admired that he could so easily hold her up. He made quick work of building a rhythm.

She climaxed quickly, but she was quiet about it. She wanted Daryl to keep going. Beth wondered if he could bring her through a second time.

She had no doubt he could.

:-:

* * *

><p>Rick felt akin to a dog with its tail between its legs as he left Beth and Daryl's apartment. He had done nothing wrong, but the idea of his former wife and his best friend being partners in crime made him think he was at least guilty of not seeing the truth.<p>

Could Shane be capable of hurting someone as innocent as Beth? Daryl seemed sure of it. Though he came across to Rick as a loose cannon at times, Daryl did not seem like the type who made up stories for drama.

Rick believed Beth most. She was truly afraid of what Shane might do to her.

He entered his own apartment and sat down on the love seat in the living room. He pondered his options and how he would go about making contact with Shane. Rick kept thinking that Daryl and Beth must have the wrong Shane in mind. He just couldn't bring himself to believe that the man he grew up with was capable of harming someone.

It just didn't make sense. Shane and Lori only ever got along for Rick's benefit. Lori usually left the room when Shane was around. She had told Rick more than once that he should find another partner, that Shane was a bad influence. Rick couldn't think of a reason why they would reunite in Atlanta, unless Shane was there to keep an eye on Lori because she was new to the area.

The fact that Lori was working at a strip club was even more baffling. Rick had a hunch she might be doing something shady to pay the bills if she hadn't gone back to school. Possibly Shane had found her and he was coming around to persuade Lori to stop stripping, but that left another puzzle. Why hadn't Shane contacted him to let him know Lori was in trouble?

No matter how Rick tried to frame it, the full picture just didn't fit. There were too many pieces, and none of them explained why Beth was in fear for her life. If Lori wanted Beth out, that meant that Lori wasn't just stripping because she had to. It also meant that the woman he once called a wife was sinking to a new low.

A muffled cry through the wall startled Rick out of his thoughts. He thought it might be a cry of help at first, but then he recalled the look of desire Daryl had when he first caught sight of Beth in the hallway. That same look of desire was amplified tenfold when Beth made it clear she trusted Daryl far more than she trusted Rick.

Rick closed his eyes and imagined Beth in her tank top and boxers. _He wanted to be the one to take those off._

His fantasy was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of rhythmic thrusts thumping the wall. Rick had made those same sounds himself many times with Lori when they were still in the honeymoon phase.

A random, jealous thought entered Rick's mind. He thought about staying on the love seat so he could listen for how long Daryl went for. If Daryl finished off too quick, maybe Beth would eventually become dissatisfied and she'd come looking for an older, more mature man with years of intimate knowledge. Lori had taught Rick so well, he could bring her to orgasm at least three times in one night.

Rick pulled his mind out of the gutter and brushed the dark thoughts off. He stood up and went to his room. There were some boxes that still needed unpacking in there and he was a safe distance away from any more noise that Beth and Daryl might make.

Daryl had teased Rick about masturbating to Beth's image once he got back to his apartment. Rick resisted the urge.

He knew he'd probably cave by nightfall.


	11. Stay With Me

**Eleven: Stay With Me**

Rick woke up the next morning with a mission.

He called Shane up while Carl was getting ready for school. It was a quick conversation.

"Carl and I are in Atlanta. Just moved here."

"Great, man. You'll like it out here," there was reservation in Shane's voice.

"You still in the area? We could meet up; talk about old times."

"Yeah, sure. I'm on Peachtree Avenue."

"This is Georgia. _Every_ Avenue is named Peachtree."

Shane let out a short chuckle.

"Right. It's on six hundred, out by the ole' mill. Take a left on fourteen and go for three miles. It's a gray apartment on the right. Can't miss it."

"Talk to you, soon," Rick hung up.

He knew Beth was asleep but he sent her a text anyway: TALKED TO SHANE. MEETING AT HIS PLACE SOON.

Rick sat down on the love seat and listened for signs of life coming from the apartment next door. There were none.

"Probably exhausted themselves," he mumbled to himself.

After Rick had left Daryl and Beth alone last evening, there were many questionable noises coming from their apartment. They had quieted down some after the wall humping, probably because they realized they were being too loud and Carl was due back anytime, but Rick was well aware they were probably still going at it until Daryl left for work a few hours, later.

"Like rabbits," Rick was reminded of a time when he was so young and sex was so fun.

Rick was suddenly aware he was being watched. He turned to face Carl in the hallway. His son stared at him incredulously, like a teenager does when he ponders if he's destined to become his old man, only to fight against it until his dying breath because he thinks it'd kill him to make the same mistakes.

"Dad, you're talking to yourself, again," Carl informed him.

"I was just thinkin' out loud," Rick stated with some minor agitation that his son would so easily assume he was out of his mind.

Carl rolled his eyes and responded, "Keep tellin' yourself that. Oh, wait, you just did!"

The teenager burst into a fit of laughter at his own sarcastic joke. Rick frowned at him.

Maybe it was like father, like son. _Both out of their minds._

:-:

* * *

><p>Rick made sure Carl got on the bus for school. It was becoming more and more difficult to get around without a vehicle, so Rick walked to the nearest place he could find and put a down payment on a truck that looked older than he was.<p>

The ugly brown mass that was once a _Top o' the Line_ for any man who considered himself a real one had long since rusted out most of its charm until it was left with a hole in the floor of the passenger side and a radio that only played stations on the AM. Rick was fairly certain that the seat belts were made of heavy duty duct tape and the speedometer was only pretending to tell him he was going the limit. A strange smell in the back told Rick the truck had carried many animals in its time. Dogs as well as farm. There were definitely chicken feathers stuck in the dashboard vents.

Rick ignored the little problems and set out on his way. He was just glad to have some transportation and he figured he could find help later to fix the truck up. Carl would throw a fit. That was a given. Rick considered the fact that Daryl's motorcycle was in good shape, which could mean that the younger man knew something about mechanics and he could be the one to help Rick out.

He scoffed out loud.

Dixon hadn't said as much, but it was clear he _hated_ Grimes.

Things may change if Rick was able to get to the bottom of the whole thing with Shane. If he could somehow get on Daryl's good graces, Rick figured Carl would be less opposed to the idea of a death trap for a vehicle if Daryl were the one helping the fix it, not to mention Beth would be overjoyed to see both men working together instead of at each other's throats.

Rick was starting to hate himself. Beth was the first woman he'd had much contact with since his wife left. He had attached to her more because of his own sense of loneliness than anything else. He was aware that she was off limits, yet he couldn't help the blood rushing below his belt every goddamn time he thought of **_Sunrise_**. Now he found himself searching for other ways to be connected to her, somehow. Through Daryl? _Fiendish_. Through his own son? _Despicable_.

He wanted to snap himself out of his lust for Beth. Lust, that's all it was. No way could she love a man like him. A retired divorcee with a teenaged son and a penchant for doing little to put himself on the social circuit. What could he possibly offer her? Coupons for dinners before five? A matinee that only shows black and whites? _God, he felt old._

But deep down, Rick felt more than lust for her. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he really loved her, somehow. He had felt it when he first laid eyes on her. He still felt it even as he denied it. He wondered if this is what people meant when they said, "_Whirlwind romance_."

"She doesn't feel the same," he reminded himself.

It didn't stop the pain building in the core of his chest.

:-:

* * *

><p>Despite being provided with directions that would make a GPS look like a Godsend, Rick managed to find Shane's apartment within the hour. Rick thought he and Carl had moved to a more run-down part of town, but Shane's part was even worse. Rick considered parking somewhere better and walking a ways to Shane's place.<p>

Then he got out and gave the truck a once-over.

"Nobody's gonna take this shit," he shook his head and made his way across the street.

The neighborhood looked bleak. Mostly condos from the 70's and metal fences that had long since been blown down by wind. It was a bit outside of town and quiet, though. Rick realized after he had gotten close that Shane hadn't mentioned an apartment number. He decided to knock on the first one he came to. An old woman in a faded yellow bathrobe answered and pointed upwards when Rick mentioned Shane. He went upstairs and knocked on the door of the apartment directly above hers. Fortunately, a familiar face answered.

"Hey, man!" Shane took him into a bear hug despite sounding so stand-offish on the phone.

Rick put on his best face. He was in no way going to let on that he knew anything about Shane's involvement with Beth and Lori.

"So, decided you couldn't handle the country life, anymore, Brother?" Shane teased as he handed Rick a beer.

Rick took a seat on a dining room chair stationed by an old black couch against the far wall. Shane sat down on a bar stool next to the kitchen a few yards away. The place was clean and barely used. It looked like someone from the early 90's moved out and left their furniture behind. Rick considered what Shane's place looked like back in their hometown. He was never much for putting things up on the walls and he was notorious for holding out as long as he could before stocking up on food, but Shane could be somewhat anal retentive about cleanliness and organization. He also loved his big screen TVs. Rick didn't see one around.

There were two possibilities that Rick could come up with: Either Shane didn't want Rick to know where he really lived and this place belonged to a buddy, or this was Shane's place but he rarely spent time, here.

"What's up with the bachelor look?" Rick pointed it out to gauge Shane's reaction.

Shane showed no signs of deception. He just shrugged and replied simply, "No need for much."

"You take girls home to this?" Rick acted like he couldn't believe it.

"Just gotta distract 'em. All they want's the body, man. Nothin' else matters when yer kissin' the right place, know what I mean?" Shane made a huge grin.

It confirmed to Rick that this was definitely Shane's place. It had to be the second scenario, that Shane didn't spend much time in it. This gave some credence to Beth's story, but it didn't prove she was right.

Rick felt a nagging tug in his gut. He ignored it.

"You still seein' a _Flavor of the Week_?" Rick asked.

Shane chuckled at the old phrase Rick used to say when referring to Shane's many female expeditions. He surmised with a shrug, "I take a few home now an' then."

"Brunettes?" Rick asked.

Shane nodded.

"Red heads?" Rick asked.

Shane nodded.

"Sweet little blondes?" Rick took a swig of his beer so as not to appear obvious.

Shane took the bait. He nodded and broke out into laughter like something said had set him off. Rick made a confused expression and asked, "What's all the jolly for?"

It was subtle. A sweeping gaze. A raise of his brow. Some sort of admission lost behind a forced expression. Rick only had a split second to read it. _He almost wished his mind was slower than that._

Shane took another long gulp of his beer. He considered what he should say and what he should take away. Rick used his eager high school traits to keep the conversation going, "What aren't you tellin' me?"

_Boys will be boys_, Rick thought. Shane couldn't resist the urge to respond when he was being egged on.

"So, there's this blonde who works downtown, right? She's young, though. We maybe missed each other by ten years or more," Shane started off.

Rick forced himself to imagine a girl he used to know in high school. He knew that if he imagined Beth, he'd lose _control_.

"And like, she wants me, you know? Like, she's so into me it—it kinda hurts, ya know?" Shane pressed an open palm against his chest.

Rick was well aware of the feeling. He was also aware that Shane was no longer talking about Beth.

He was talking about loving someone he couldn't have. He was talking about _Lori_.

"Anyway, so I keep askin' her out, ya know? But she's like, 'Oh, sorry, I got a boyfriend,' or some shit, an' I'm like, 'Oh, really? Where is he? 'Cause I ain't never seen one around,'" Shane went on.

Rick began to form an moving picture in his mind. Shane standing in a strip club. Shane seeing Lori on stage and recognizing her. Shane talking to Lori outside the club. She blew him off, at first. But he was insistent. He kept coming back. He wouldn't take _no_ for an answer.

"Then, she starts hangin' out with this guy. He's like, way older than her an' he's already bangin' some other chick in the joint. This older guy, he rounds up a few of his military buddies an' they try an' put the fear o' God in me. 'Get outta here, man! You ain't wanted here!' Or some shit like that," Shane continued.

Shane seemed to be shifting between Lori and Beth. Rick struggled to fill in the blanks. How did Shane pick up on Beth? Rick's theory was that Lori decided to use Shane after he refused to leave her alone. Who was the older guy who told Shane to get the hell out? Probably Daryl's brother, Merle.

"Anyway," Shane waved his hand and Rick realized he had missed a small portion of the story, "So, I took off for a while just to clear my head, ya know? I went back to the place to ask the blonde out again, but this time, she's got another guy hangin' around her, some motorhead who'd kick you in the face just for breathin' his air, ya know?"

A spot-on description of Daryl.

"I tried to talk her outta bein' with him, ya know? I mean, it's not like I'm stealin' her away from the man o' her dreams, right? He looks like one o' them guys from the trailer parks we used to arrest for domestics an' fuckin' doin' stupid shit while they're shitfaced drunk. I'd say I was doin' her a favor, askin' her to roll with me, instead," Shane smiled.

The moving picture in Rick's mind stopped short. Shane was making it sound like he had taken a liking to Beth and wanted to take the next step. He made it sound like Beth had refused him and when Shane kept right on, Beth had used Merle to show Shane the door. After a short but sweet absence to let Beth cool off, Shane had come back to find her dating a guy from the wrong side of the tracks. It sounded like Shane's intentions as a former police officer were to rescue Beth from years of violence and abuse with a man she didn't deserve. Shane would show her a good time and they would move on to better things. _No harm. No foul._

But Rick knew better. Daryl wasn't an abuser. Rick had seen enough of those in his time as a deputy. He recognized all the signs. The biggest thing working against Daryl was his external image, which could easily be manipulated to look like the stereotypical alcoholic wife beater with rage problems. Shane's story would've been completely believable to anyone who didn't know Daryl that well.

Rick was reminded of when Beth was sleepwalking in his apartment. _She was screaming and smashing plates against the floor. Daryl came in to help her. He held her in his arms and he brought her out of her nightmare. _

No, Daryl Dixon was not an abuser. Shane was not rescuing Beth from him.

There was a shift in the room. Shane had suddenly become aware that Rick had stopped listening and gone somewhere inside of himself. By the time Rick resurfaced, Shane had become suspicious.

A long pause with no words.

Shane spoke first, "What's the matter with you, man?"

"I'm sorry, I...I'm just missin' my wife, that's all," Rick shifted all his efforts to the worst memories of his life so he could look as desperate as possible.

Shane tilted his head to one side for a moment. There was another tense pause of silence before Shane mentioned, "**_Ex_** gotta get out an' get laid, man."

Rick took the risk and asked, "You think you could take me to this club you're talkin' about? Maybe I'll meet some _Flavors_ there, myself."

Shane stared at him. Rick was sure he was caught. He braced himself for what could happen, next.

A burst of laughter. The tension lifted. Shane shouted through guffaws, "Like you'd be caught dead lookin' for broads in a strip joint, my man!"

Rick laughed and faked defeat. Shane appeared convinced that Rick had no clue about anything. Both men stood up. Shane gave Rick another long hug. Rick set his beer on the kitchen island. Shane finished his drink and Rick's. A few jokes were exchanged. Shane made a slam about Rick being a, "Divorcee with nothin' to live for," and Rick argued that, "I still got Carl," to which Shane asked if he could come over sometime and see _Junior_ Grimes, and after Rick gave his approval and opened the door to leave, Shane called out the door, "Maybe I'll stop by after he's a little more grown. Teenagers are such dicks, man!"

Rick chuckled and waved good-bye over his shoulder. Shane shut the door. Rick left the place feeling like he'd got the information he needed.

U WERE RIGHT. SHANE'S A PROBLEM. MEET U AT THE CLUB TONIGHT. WANNA TALK TO LORI.

He typed the text out while he was leaning against the wall of Shane's apartment. Rick hit send and started for the street. He checked both ways. No one was around.

Rick glanced back down at his phone as he started to cross the street. MESSAGE FAILED TO SEND blinked across the screen.

"Shit," Rick held his phone closer to his face to check the bars for reception.

A low rumble growled in his left ear. Rick thought it was a car starting nearby.

The bright Georgia sun was bearing down on him. He could hardly see the bars on his cell's screen.

Rick noticed the rumbling had grown louder. He glanced up a second too late.

He felt the grill of the vehicle hit him in the abdomen. It was like being slammed by a huge soccer ball.

He didn't remember feeling any pain. Just sensations. _Falling_. A series of mistakes. _Hitting something hard._ Feelings of agony that were close and then far away. _The sun_. A survival instinct. An overwhelming fear of mortality. _An inability to breathe_. Carl. _I've failed him_.

Darkness.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I've been getting a lot of heat from reviewers about Rick's character in this story. The majority either doesn't like him at all or they describe him as creepy and predatory. I wanted to write Rick into this story as a character with a soft spot for Beth who provides a connection between characters as well as he's meant to keep the plot interesting by providing some conflict with Daryl.<p>

I must admit that I'm more than a little disappointed with the idea that Rick is coming across so negatively. I never meant him to be written that way. I wanted to express the loneliness he is feeling after his divorce and the many emotions he's going through while still trying to take care of his son. He has attached himself to Beth much the way a drowning man clings to a life preserver. He needs the IDEA of a connection to her in his mind so he doesn't completely lose himself, however, he has no intention of actually sabotaging her relationship with Daryl and he would do anything to see Beth happy.

This chapter was posted first without author notes because I wanted to gauge the reviews. Unfortunately, I only received one review for this chapter and it did not put Rick in a good light. So I'm guessing at this point that readers would rather see him die than survive the accident. I would like to read more reviews to get a good idea of what I should do, next. At this point, I am not very inspired because I planned to do much more with Rick's character. Please be honest and let me know if you think he should survive or not so that I can do rewrites before posting more.


	12. Need to Be

Author's Note: Thank you for your suggestions regarding Rick's character! There were a lot more reviews in favor of Rick surviving. Personally, I was glad to see that! I ultimately decided to go the way that I planned to in the first place. I'm not sure the ones who voted against Rick will be happy with that but as I've mentioned before, this is a Beth/Daryl pairing and not a Beth/Rick pairing, so f-all and I'll do whatever the hell I want and throw in a few other things that people rant about when they're going for some dramatic reasoning about something that wasn't meant to be that deep in the first place.

Oh, and _muchas gracias_ to user**_ Tania Ibarbia_** for your _muy bien_ reviews! I am always _entusiasmada_ to read reviews in other languages!

(I'd also like to thank Google Translator for making it possible to read and get overly excited about reviews in other languages)

**Twelve: Need to Be**

"Don't you understand the kinda trouble we're gonna be in?"

Lori glared at him and folded her arms tightly over her breasts. Her forearms clenched so hard that her cleavage popped out of her top. The image would've normally sent Shane into a tizzy, but he was too far gone to care at that point.

"Why're you so sure I was the one who ran him down?" Lori stated through gritted teeth.

Shane blinked a few times and stared at her. He couldn't tell if she were kidding him or not.

"You think he just got ran down by accident? No fuckin' way! No fuck-in' way!" he shot back.

Lori continued to remain eerily calm as she stood in Shane's living room and watched him pace like a tiger in a cage. She had shown up just after Shane had called the police to take Rick's body away. Whether Rick was still alive or not was yet to be determined. He was completely unresponsive when Shane found him and the truck that took him out was already long gone.

"He knows about us, Lor. I know it! I could feel it in my bones!" Shane shook his arms violently as if to wring out the feeling like water so she could see it for herself.

Lori's demeanor faltered for a second.

"Did he come right out and ask you about me?" she asked quietly.

Shane assessed the question a moment before he shook his head and replied, "Well, no, I guess he didn't ask, but that don't mean he don't know! He ain't stupid, Lori! I've known him long enough to know how he figures shit out!"

Lori leaned towards him and whispered, "If you thought he knew, then why didn't you steer him the wrong way?"

Shane blinked a few times, again. His mind was lost to racing thoughts of being caught and possibly losing the only real friend he ever had. Was he sad? He couldn't tell. All he could think of was how Carl was going to take the news.

"We should find Carl. He's alone without his daddy," Shane started for the door.

He reached for the handle but hesitated when he sensed Lori was not behind him. Shane turned around to face her and found her still in the same place. She was just as distant as ever.

She slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She checked something on it and said simply, "I'll make a few calls and find out if Rick's still alive, then we'll pick up Carl from school and take him back to their apartment."

"You know where Rick lives?" Shane asked curiously.

"I may be away from them, but I always know where he's keeping my son," Lori answered coldly as she breezed past him.

:-:

* * *

><p>Beth woke up from a horrible nightmare.<p>

She was drenched in sweat. Daryl wasn't next to her, but the door to her room was open like he had only just left. Beth sat up and kicked the covers away. Her sheets felt like ants crawling over her skin. Her red blanket looked like a puddle of blood on the floor. The sun was peeking in through the curtain. It looked like a beautiful day. Beth felt like the sun was lying to her.

Her stomach felt knotted and hot. She was hungry and wanted to throw up at the same time. Her feet went cold as soon as they touched the hardwood floor. Beth grabbed her cell from the bedside table and checked it.

Rick had sent a text: TALKED TO SHANE. MEETING AT HIS PLACE SOON.

Beth checked the clock on her phone. The text was a few hours old. She felt a quick pinch in her side when she scanned her messages and Rick had sent nothing more.

The door creaked and Beth looked up. Daryl was standing there with a towel in one hand and a change of clothes for her in the other. He had probably warmed them up for a few minutes in the dryer because he knew she liked that.

"Somethin's up," she told him.

He bowed his head. Daryl didn't have to see the text. He just knew.

:-:

* * *

><p>Beth took a shower while Daryl made breakfast. He wanted her to get dressed and eat something before they went looking for Rick. Beth had given Daryl her cell phone to look over the text. There wasn't much to see. For an old school tracker like Daryl, modern technology provided very little to go on. He could track a human being or an animal for miles if he had physical markers to pick up on. Cell phones were a different level of tracking. Daryl had watched enough crime shows to know there were ways to locate someone from their cell, but he had no idea how to apply it to this situation.<p>

He considered just calling Rick's number, but there were too many risks. The number would probably come up as BETH on Rick's phone, and if Shane were to see it, there'd be hell to pay.

Daryl considered what Merle would do. He dropped that idea quickly. Merle would've let Rick take the fall and if anyone asked him later, Merle would put his hands up and say innocently, "I don't know no goddamn thing about it."

He ultimately decided to put Beth's cell down on the kitchen patio table until he could think of a better plan.

Beth walked in a few minutes, later. Her gaze was lost as she took a pancake and some scrambled eggs. Daryl slapped another pancake on her plate as she passed him. She stopped like she was going to turn back and argue with him. She silently took a seat at the patio table, instead. Daryl sat across from her and she stared at him like she wanted a full report. He shrugged his shoulders and reached for the syrup.

"That's it? You got nothin'?!" she seemed shocked and appalled.

Daryl drenched his pancakes in syrup and handed her the small jug. Beth angrily pushed it away and argued, "Don't you care?!"

"I got nothin' to go on, Beth. He didn't leave no word where he was headed," Daryl said.

She looked down at her cell phone. Her porcelain face was starting to turn blotchy red like it did when she was really upset but couldn't let it out. Daryl had only seen her get this mad a couple of times. He wanted to help, but he had no idea how.

"Why don' I jus' call him up?" she reached for her cell.

Daryl snatched it away from her. Beth glared at him.

"If Rick's with Shane an' yer name shows up on his phone, it's gonna cause a shit-storm," Daryl quoted Merle on that last part.

Beth eased up a little. Her anger turned to shame and her eyes filled with tears. It was almost unbearable for Daryl to watch.

"It's my fault. Whatever happened to him, it's all my fault," Beth wept.

Daryl put the phone down on the table. He got up, walked over to Beth, stood her up and pulled her into him. She sobbed his t-shirt wet. He brushed his lips against her ear and whispered, "It ain't you that's done wrong."

Beth lifted her head and screamed, "But he was helpin' me, Daryl! He didn't know me well an' he had no reason in hell to believe me over his best friend or his evil-ex, but he went on my word and now somethin' terrible's happened to him!"

She sank back into his t-shirt, again. Daryl was about to say something more when a ringing sound pierced the air and made them both jump.

It was Beth's cell.

She rushed to grab it. Beth's eyes were wide as saucers when she read the name. She didn't have to tell Daryl for him to know it had to be Rick.

"Hello? Hello?!" Beth shrieked frantically.

Daryl could hear a strange voice answering her. The words were too low for him to hear, but he did not recognize the voice as Rick's. Daryl watched as Beth's face went from something manic to something sort of concerned. She nodded and asked, "I'm his...we're neighbors, I think I could-"

Daryl waved his hand to get her attention. Beth told the voice, "Hold on, please," then she put her thumb over the receiving end and explained, "It's the hospital. Rick's been in some sorta car accident. They checked his phone an' called me 'cause I'm the first one on his contact list."

He nodded and considered their options. Daryl had only been in and out of hospitals a few times in his life and never by choice. Sometimes Merle took a bar fight too far, or their daddy did something stupid while drunk and needed a few stitches. Daryl was aware that family members had the most privileges when it came to hospital rules. He knew that they'd be contacting Lori because she was Carl's mother and Rick didn't seem like the type of guy who updated his emergency contacts all that often. More than likely Shane would also be making an appearance on account of his past with Rick. Despite the conviction Dixon held for Grimes, he didn't exactly want to see the man in a hospital surrounded by the people who put him there.

"Tell 'em you an' Rick are plannin' to be hitched," Daryl stated.

"What?" Beth blinked with surprise.

"They won' let us see 'im if we ain't family or somethin' close 'nough," Daryl told her.

Beth frowned and said, "But I don' think of him like that-"

"They'll be callin' Lori an' Shane. Lori'll take Carl if he ain't got someone to go home to," Daryl surmised.

Beth stood up straighter at the mention of Carl. She nodded that she knew what she had to do. She took her finger away from the receiver and asked, "You still there?"

Her face lit up with a smile when the voice responded to her. Beth explained as sweetly as possible, "I ain't s'pposed to tell nobody this, 'cause it was gonna be a surprise an' all, but Rick proposed to me jus' last month, so I'm his fiance an' all..."

She went on to tell the voice that they lived next door to each other in an apartment complex while they went house hunting. They were a, "Fast an' furious romance," and, "It was just 'bout time to tell the family." The voice said a few more words to her and Beth acted as jubilant as possible, but Daryl could see the guilt in her eyes for having to lie.

When she finally hung up, she looked up at him and said somberly, "I'm only doin' this to save Carl an' to keep that bitch Lori an' her hound dog Shane from hurtin' Rick more. I ain't got no real feelings for Rick an' this don' change the way I feel 'bout you."

"I know," Daryl nodded.

:-:

* * *

><p>Connor was startled awake by the sound of his cell ringing. He scooped it up from the bedside table and checked the name. He answered it as soon as he read it was Daryl, thinking this was some sort of a prank or a dream.<p>

"You there, Dee-xon?" Connor asked curiously.

"I'm gonna need your help," Daryl stated.

"Anythin', bru-dder," Connor replied without hesitation.


End file.
